


Six Months of Winter

by iggie_bergman



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, HIV/AIDS, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2018-11-06
Packaged: 2019-06-23 17:01:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 27,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15610857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iggie_bergman/pseuds/iggie_bergman
Summary: "Justin came for the sweater. What did Ethan come for?"Justin meets up with Ethan, post breakup. It gets complicated from there.





	1. Chapter 1

February

Justin tried uncurling his fists as he waited for the light to change.

The nurse at the clinic had said he should wait to stretch them out – “until the bruising has faded and the cuts have scabbed over,” He went in to the clinic on Tuesday, two days after- when it was clear his palms were shredded beyond the relief of neosporin and ibuprofen.

“You have very delicate hands” the nurse told him, “And anyway, with your history, you really need to be careful not to damage any more nerves. What the heck happened to them?”

“Roses,” he replied.

The nurse sighed.

And the brick wall around Daphne’s, Justin thought- the stucco hallways of PIFA, the unending sinks of hot, murky dishwater at the diner- anything really that he could scrape and bruise and batter his palms against.

“Well you need to be more careful,” she had said, bandaging him up.

Okay.

In the cold, Justin tore off his mittens, and two little claws emerged. He hissed as he tried extending them. The left claw lengthened- and a hand appeared. But the right fist remained stubborn- knotted up in a messy little ball.

Whatever.

He jammed them back into the safety of his coat.

The light turned, and Justin crossed the street. The far end of Liberty Ave was piled high with dirty snow. They always made sure to plow the south end, down where the Diner and Babylon and most of the action was- but up here on the north end, the snow from the whole avenue accumulated in big chunky drifts. Ethan’s favorite café was tucked back, one street over, between a used book store and a junk shop. Justin stopped in front, allowing himself one moment of nerves before shouldering his way inside.

The fucker himself was tucked in at a table at the back, slumped over a mocha, his mop of greasy hair hiding his dark eyes. Six days, and already Ethan looked like a stranger to him. If Justin didn’t say anything, he could slip quietly back out the door and forget that they had ever happened- they could carry on being strangers from now until forever more.

Of course, Ethan looks up at that _exact_ moment, his syrupy eyes pinning Justin to the spot. Justin breathes deep, and nods a curt hello. Ethan stands and approaches tentatively. He hovers while Justin turns to the barista and orders a black americano.

“You came,”

He sounds relieved.

“Well, you wouldn’t stop calling,”

Ethan shrugs, and fiddles with his ring- _their_ ring- _why the fuck is he still wearing it?_

“Thank you. Thank you for coming. I appreciate it,” Ethan murmurs.

Justin grits his teeth, and swallows hard. Ethan blathers on through small talk, until the barista plonks an americano into the clutches of Justin’s palms. The weight of it is unexpected, and hot- Justin grimaces.

“Join me?” Ethan forces a smile, and gestures back to the table. Justin cradles his coffee and saucer and follows Ethan to the corner spot. They sit, then stare at the sticky table top in awkward, angry silence.

Eventually Ethan starts.

“How are you?”

Justin shrugs, “Fine,” he says. Then adds-

“We’re not getting back together. Just… to be clear,”

Ethan’s shoulders slump.

“No, I… I figured as much. I wouldn’t ask that,”

“Good!” Justin replies sarcastically.

So what are we doing here, Justin wonders. He figured this would be Ethan’s final plea. Ethan would beg and weep for Justin to come home- He’d sob and say he made the biggest mistake of his life and that he couldn’t _breathe_ until his Muse came back. Justin was prepared for that saccharine shit-show, he came prepared with a full fucking rebuttal for that garbage. But more than that, Justin had spent the last six days on Daphne’s couch, sifting through the remains of their relationship and he had come to realize several crucial things.

One- Justin was not, in fact, _in_ love with Ethan; that actually his being with Ethan was always more about Justin and Brian than it ever was about Ethan.

Two- Justin was likely (okay, definitely) still in love with Brian, but what Justin was supposed to do about that, he didn’t know. 

And Three- Justin had left his warm, wooly green sweater at Ethan’s when he packed everything and left for good on Wednesday.

Justin came for the sweater. What did Ethan come for?

“Are you and Brian…?” Justin’s eyes flash with anger, and Ethan backs off immediately-

“Never mind, sorry. Sorry,”

Justin shrugs, and has a sip of his coffee. It’s bitter, but warm. Ethan looks pale- sad actually, so Justin takes pity.

“What do you want from me Ethan?” he asks gently.

Ethan coughs, and awkwardly pulls at the hem of his turtleneck. He looks down, and then sits up very straight- as if bracing himself.

“I called you, because I needed to be honest with you- totally, completely honest,”

Justin blinks.

“There were other guys,”

His heart sinks. _Of course there were._

“Not a lot. But it was more than… “ Ethan drifts off.

“Harrisburg” Justin supplies quietly.

Ethan nods.

“When?”

Curiosity, and all that.

Ethan lists them-

“The weekend you had to babysit Molly, Christmas when I went back home to Boston, a couple times when you were working late,”

Ethan’s wincing. Justin looks at him- _really_ looks at him, and notices how exhausted he looks

“I’ve spent this last week, really looking at myself, and knowing how I lied to you, how I betrayed you- I… I just needed to be honest with you, I’m a fucking asshole,” Ethan’s rambling now, clutching the table-

“Look, I kind of figured you fucked other guys,” Justin shrugs, stomaching the hurt and aiming for an air of nonchalance- aiming for anything that would let them both move on from this stupidity, but Ethan presses on, twisting at his ring, his eyes getting red-

“I want you to know how sorry I am, how fucking _sorry_ I am- I am _so so sorry_ , Justin, I’m sorry!” Ethan’s almost hysterical- “Justin, I swear- I never meant for any of it to happen, you were the _only one I loved_ and that I was always safe-“

Justin _snaps._

“Why the **fuck** would I care about any of that!?”

Ethan swallows. Ethan’s eyes are wet with emotion-

_fuck that fuck that, whatever feeling that is fuck it fuck you_

“What?!” Justin snarls-

Ethan looks guiltily down at his coffee.

and then it hits him.

Dimly, Justin hears the barista call out- there’s a non-fat latte at the bar.

Ethan squeezes his eyes shut, but Justin can only stare at him. The color drains from his face

“Which one?” Justin asks

“Boston,” Ethan stammers.

Christmas- what was that, a month and a half ago?

“The condom broke. He called me yesterday,”

And after Christmas, in January- one week into the new semester at PIFA-

“I’m sorry Justin, I’m so so so so fucking sorry,” Ethan is openly weeping now.

Justin just sits there, and the world gets very very small for a moment- condensed to the sound of Ethan’s wet sobs and the feeling of warmth seeping into his shredded fingertips.

Justin swallows past the rock in his throat.

Huh, he thinks.

So this is what it feels like when your world collapses in.

  


	2. Chapter 2

February

_Let’s not be dramatic_

 

His mom used to say that to him when he was little- “ _Don’t be so dramatic Justin, you make a worst case scenario out of everything,”_

 

Ethan had been tested, and was negative.

 

Two hours after he left the café, Justin was tested too - again, the free clinic.

 

Then after, he ran out to the closest bar – a _breeder_ bar, Brian would have called it- and drank all the beer and whiskey he could buy. No one recognized him, and Justin disappeared between the crowds of frat boys and the blaring TV sets. Wryly, Justin congratulated himself for staying mostly sober the week after breaking up with Ethan. If he’d given in to his darker urges, he probably would have ended up high out of his mind, fucking some guy in the backroom of Babylon- and then how would he find that guy to tell him? Tell him he was probably-

 

_Let’s not be dramatic_

 

Justin drank until he was almost belly up, then stumbled back to Daphne’s where he collapsed on the couch in a mindless heap. He woke up at three, drenched in sweat from the nightmare he had hoped to avoid, then fell back asleep at five. He woke again at noon, and after heaving his guts into Daphne’s toilet, Justin called the clinic.

 

Justin was also negative.

 

For now.

 

“You’ll have to come back in two months, and then again three months after that. After the six month window, that’s when we can really be sure,” the nurse advised calmly.

 

Justin hung up. January 10th plus…..

 

July 10th

 

July 10th was when he’d know for sure.

 

Justin threw himself in Daphne’s shower, then went out for cigarettes and beer.

 

+++

 

Daphne fretted over him, when she came back from class and found him drunk again on the couch. He didn’t have the heart to tell her the truth, so he fed her the usual stuff-

 

“He just groveled, begged to have me back- I don’t know what I ever saw in him, cheating dickhead!”

 

And he let Daphne say and do all the right, usual things-

 

“Men are all dogs, fuck love, let’s be single forever!”

 

She insisted on skipping her evening class so that they could stay up most of the night eating ice cream and watching brainless, happy TV.

 

Halfway through Clueless, she drifted off to sleep, her head in his lap, murmuring-

 

“It’ll all work out, Justin- you’ll see,”

 

Justin sat up smoking that night, unable to sleep.

 

+++

 

The next day at the diner, Justin dove headfirst into the messiness of manual labor- wiping, serving, pouring. Ben and Michael came in for an early breakfast, and Justin ignored the pointed looks from Michael-

 

_yes Michael you were right, you knew it all along, good job_

 

Justin dropped off Michael’s omelet and Ben’s cereal.

 

“How’re you doing Justin?” Ben inquired gently, noticing the bags under his eyes.

 

Justin swallowed hard.

 

“Fine,”

 

Then it was back to work- wipe, serve, pour- repeat.

 

He didn’t see Ben or Michael leave, he just cleared their dirty dishes and pocketed the extravagant tip Ben always leaves for him.

 

Eventually Debbie came in and Justin could finally disappear from the crowds and hide in the back. He focused on the dishes- scrub, dry, stack- repeat. He worked his way through all the mucky plates, then started on the silverware. The diner had emptied out after the breakfast rush, so Justin made himself comfortable at the back booth to deal with a mountain of forks.

 

He was scratching at a particularly crusty prong, when he felt eyes on him.

 

Justin’s heart pounded.

 

Brian was sat at his usual spot at the counter- imperious- _gorgeous_.

 

A couple of months ago, Brian had started coming in at 11am, almost always on the dot-

 

“ _To escape from our fucking art department_!” he had snapped at Debbie, the first time she asked him why he came in at the weird hour. He usually sat there for twenty minutes, pointedly ignoring Justin and loudly complaining about the shitty coffee. Periodically Justin would feel Brian’s eyes on him, but he tried not to read too much into it.

 

Hope, and all that. 

 

Brian looked handsome as ever, if a little tired. He was working a lot, Emmett had said, a new national account that was keeping him busy. Brian wasn’t doing drugs, or tricking as much, Emmett made sure to tell him- but he _was_ drinking an awful lot, and Emmett was worried about it.

 

Justin didn’t see Brian come in today, Debbie must’ve poured his coffee.

 

“Aren’t you a waiter?” Brian drawled casually, over the top of his newspaper.

 

“What?”

 

Brian picked up his drained coffee cup, and smiled sarcastically.

 

“Chop chop, Sunshine!”

 

Justin couldn’t help but smirk, and got up to pour him a refill. He was quite proud too, when his gimp, mangled hand didn’t rattle as he poured. Instead it gave out five minutes later, as he was trying to hand someone their change and it ended up spilled all over the floor.

 

Brian loomed over him as Justin got up and handed the lady her quarters-

 

“What the hell happened to your hands?” he demanded impassively. Justin laughed it off-

 

“You should see the other guy,”

 

Brian glared at him like he was the world’s worst comedian. Justin rolled his eyes-

 

“I was helping a friend rip up crates for a new art installation she’s making, don’t be so dramatic,” the lie slipped easily from his tongue.

 

Brian’s eyes narrowed. He grabbed Justin’s shredded hand between his palms and massaged- firmly, methodically. Justin couldn’t help but moan as the muscles loosened up.

 

Brian used to call it “Ken Hands”, whenever his gimp hand seized up this bad, and it was stuck in the same shape as a plastic doll’s.

 

“Does that make you Barbie?” Justin would reply, tongue in cheek, reaching out his claw to squeeze Brian’s invisible boobs. The move usually earned him a playful smack and a swift trip to the shower so that Brian could remind him just how manly they both were.

 

Christ, Justin thought, I need to get laid

 

_Can’t. You’re positive._

Justin ripped his hand away at the thought. What if he gave it to-

 

No,

 

_Don’t be dramatic_

_You can’t pass it along through touching or kissing,_

 

_**idiot.** _

 

Justin breathed deep. He should’ve tried to get more sleep last night.

 

Brian just rolled his eyes and retreated back to his seat-

 

“You should stop jerking off so much,” he offered helpfully. Brian resumed his reading, an expression of indifference sliding down his face.

 

“Hey Sunshine!” Justin welcomed the interruption.

 

“You’ve! Got! Mail!” Debbie declared joyously from the front door. Justin rolled his eyes at the cheesy reference, but laughed in spite of himself. Debbie waltzed a large stack of Justin’s mail up to the counter and deposited it next to Brian so that Justin could dig through it.

 

“Thanks Deb,”

 

He started pawing his way through the mess.

 

“Looks like the lying bastard’s having your mail forwarded,” Debbie remarked slyly, purposefully, leaning over the counter between them.

 

Justin couldn’t tell if she was saying things like that to provoke Brian, or him, or what. She knew Ethan and he had broken up, and why they had split- fuck, _everyone_ on Liberty Avenue knew the story. And ever since the split, Debbie had found an infinite amount of ways to bring it up whenever Brian was around.

 

What did she think was going to happen? That Brian would magically forgive him and rescue poor little Justin, or that Justin would swallow his pride, break down and beg Brian to take him back?

 

It was too complicated for that.

 

Maybe she just always felt the need to state the obvious.

 

“I didn’t know the postal service even delivered to Ian’s treacherous neck of the woods,”

 

“North of Delancy is not _treacherous_ , you make it sound like a swamp,” Justin retorted, sifting through the stack and tossing out the junk and catalogs- _catalogs, really Ethan, you thought I needed the fucking catalogs?_

 

He paused in his sorting- two envelopes, one from Taylor Electronics, the other from Anthem Blue Cross. Justin swallowed hard, then snatched them up and withdrew from Brian and Debbie to sit back at his booth.

 

_“Don’t be so dramatic,”_

 

his dad would say when he was little, “ _You’re just like your goddamn mother,”_

 

Justin used one of the crusty forks to open each envelope.

 

From the looks of it, Craig had finally made good on his promise and dropped Justin from his insurance plan. Craig had warned him months ago, over a starchy white table cloth at a restaurant they used to go to after Justin’s little league games.

 

“I’m giving you a grace period, so that you can get your affairs in order,” Craig had announced magnanimously, “I have a new family to think of. And you … you have Kinney. He can take care of you now,” Craig had sipped his martini, smug- as if his acknowledgement of Brian somehow made him not homophobic.

 

At the time, Justin shrunk with humiliation, but lied and said he understood, they’d be fine.

 

_They’d._

_Hah._

 

So he and Ethan had done the best they could to come up with a plan for this eventuality. Ethan was going to see if he could dip into some family money to help cover Justin’s medical costs (they were _partners_ , after all), but well, that option was obviously gone and Justin had forgotten entirely this was coming.

 

He stared dumbly at the letters.

 

“What is it Sunshine?” Debbie asked, making her way towards him, worry in her brow.

 

“Nothing, just junk,” He replied, and crumpled them into his pocket.

 

++++

 

“What the fuck are you going to do?!” Daphne exclaimed when he told her. They were crowded on the floor around her coffee table, chugging cheap red wine and munching on cheese and crackers.

 

“I dunno, Daph… sell a kidney?” Justin sighed, exhaling cigarette smoke. Daphne was a good friend, letting him smoke inside.

 

“You’re not quitting school, you worked too hard to get there,” Daph proclaimed. Justin just shrugged- sometimes you had no choice

 

“How much does it cost? We can add it up, and make a plan,” Daphne, ever practical, pulled out her notebook and pen. Justin was suddenly reminded of the first time he ever met Daphne- sixth grade, biology class – he had found her poised, sitting at the desk next to his, a look of severe concentration on her face, a purple velvet pencil in her hand.

 

“Okay then,”

 

They added up the asthma medication (2 different kinds, plus inhaler and epi-pen), the anticonvulsant, the anti-anxiety, the migraine pills ( _not that they fucking worked_ ), the regular check-ups, the MRIs-

 

Even with an approximate total it was a **_fuck ton._**

 

Of course Justin wasn’t including any HIV related medication, _god what the fuck would that even be?!_ His stomach turned at the thought.

_Let’s not be dramatic_

 

“What’re you gonna do?” Daphne cried, seeing the numbers add up.

 

Justin shrugged and took another drag.

 

+++

 

First thing to go was Justin’s cell phone. It was only for emergencies anyways.

 

Next was the computer. Justin handed it over to the technician at the Mac store, then promptly went around the corner to the parking lot and sobbed- huge, whooping sobs that stole his lungs away.

 

The greatest gift anyone had ever given him was now lumped on a re-sell shelf.

 

Justin folded himself over a shopping cart, and tried to remember how to breathe.

 

After that was post-modern art history on Wednesdays and Fridays, and game animation on Tuesdays and Thursdays. He would save on the book and materials fees, but more importantly, he could use the extra time to find another job.

 

Then little things- cutting the groceries down to ramen and kraft cheese sandwiches, getting rid of his subscriptions to Artforum and the New Yorker…

 

… selling the watch his Dad had given him for his sixteenth birthday…

 

Little things.

 

“ _Don’t even think of it_ , **_you fucking idiot_**! You can stay on my couch forever,” Daphne had screamed at him two weeks later, while she was making them dinner. Daphne’s roommate had stuffed Justin’s things into garbage bags and thrown them all into Daphne’s room, so Justin figured he was taking up too much space and it was probably time to go.

 

“Your roommate wants to kill me,”

 

“So _fucking_ what, Becca can suck it up- and if she _can’t,_ she can go live at her boyfriend’s house, HE’S CERTAINLY HERE ALL THE GODDAMN TIME!” Daphne yelled, hoping Becca would hear them from the shower. She slammed the cabinet shut, huffing in frustration. Justin handed her the missing pot, which she promptly slammed down on the stove.

 

“And don’t even _think_ about giving me money,” Daphne seethed murderously.

 

+++

 

Later that night, Justin crawled into Daphne’s shower. He stayed in the dark, under the water, trying to figure out if he was crying, or dissolving.

 

_You’re always so dramatic_

Brian once said to him, still rolling on molly. They were curled up back at the loft, sobering up with leftover Chinese. Justin was grousing about the professor who told him that he probably should consider giving up painting all together, since his hand was never going to improve.

 

 _You mean I should stop whining?_ Justin flushed, nervously

_Not at all_ Brian had murmured against his shoulder, rubbing his nose into Justin’s armpit _I love to hear you bitch_

Justin looked at him. Brian shrugged

 

_I just think you need to trust that you’ll be okay._

 

Justin snorted and shrugged him off, but Brian moved over him, pressing him into the rug. Brian enclosed him, trapping him between his arms and the soft, white couch cushions. Brian peered down at Justin with a strange ferocity

 

_You made it this far, didn’t you?_


	3. Chapter 3

March

Justin panted, groaning as the man slid into him again. He was large and heavy- his massive fingers were gripped around his waist. It made Justin feel small, delicate. The man’s dick was hitting him in _exactly_ the right spot.

 

“What was that Sunshine?” Brian purred, holding him from the front. Justin trembled in Brian’s arms as the trick pounded him. Brian smiled, licking his way from Justin’s ear to his cheek to his mouth, then plunging in. Justin dick throbbed, pulsing in Brian’s hand. Brian’s other hand was on his windpipe, squeezing it gently.

 

“You want to suck my cock while he fucks your tight ass?” Brian whispered filthily. Brian was so, so sweaty, the _smell of him-_ Justin keened,

 

_yes yes yes_

“What do you want, Justin? Tell me what you want,” Brian crooned, squeezing his dick.

 

_please Brian please_

 

+++

 

Justin lurched awake, and sat up in a cold sweat. His dick throbbed. Justin looked under the covers and saw the wet spot blooming in his briefs, soaking the sheets under him.

 

Fuck.

 

Justin threw himself back into the clutches of Daphne’s couch.

 

+++

 

March rolled around, and life got a little easier.

 

Not better, just easier.

 

Justin got used to his new life. He was still camped out on Daphne’s couch, but he’d reached a truce with Becca and was storing his stuff in the hallway closet where she wouldn’t trip on it. Daphne always gave him a generous ration of cheap red wine, and he learned how to make all manner of dishes from frozen peas and canned tomatoes.

 

Ethan stopped calling, which was a relief.

 

In the beginning, Justin thought seriously about giving up some of his medications, but every time he was on the phone with the pharmacist and tempted to only refill the antiseizure (which was so _stupidly expensive_ ), he’d suddenly remember every time that Brian had kissed his forehead after a migraine, or how Brian would bitch at him for missing a dose, or the times that Brian had steadied him in a cramped bathroom stall while he freaked out and couldn’t breathe - how _quite literally_ , Brian had brought him back from the dead.

 

The thought of Brian, and he’d go on and refill the whole fucking lot.

 

He owed him that much.

 

So Justin became well acquainted with credit cards- and paying one off with another.

 

Justin poured his focus into his art, and his three remaining classes. He started scrounging through dumpsters for found materials to use and sneaking supplies home from school. Daphne said it was his “vagabond phase”- that they would debate Justin’s use of moldy ceiling tile when they taught his work to freshmen. Justin snorted so hard milk flew out his nose, much to Daphne’s delight. He did admit though, he _had_ made some pretty cool stuff lately.

 

He found another job, waiting at a snooty new French restaurant called _Les Grand Plaisir_ (Brian would _barf_ ).

It was all the rage with the wealthy queers in town. Every Tuesday, Wednesday and Friday he worked the dinner shift- Friday was tough though, because he always had the diner beforehand.

 

The tips at _Plaisir_ were ridiculously good- Justin had finally learned how to maximize both his waspy upbringing, and his blonde hair and great ass. He lied shamelessly about which Bordeaux paired well with the beef bourguignon, and gritted his teeth whenever a sleazy guy grabbed his dick. Justin could bear the harassment, so long as he walked away with his proverbial rent money.

 

Any other free time he had, Justin spent working catering jobs. He liked the work, liked being anonymous and handing out canapés to people who didn’t even look at him. They let him carry the lighter things (his right hand was still gimpy), and best of all, it paid twenty dollars an hour. _Not bad_

The weeks passed.

 

Time marched on, Justin marched on.

 

Daphne wanted him to try dating again, or at least go to Babylon, but how could he tell her?

 

All he wanted was Brian anyways.

 

He and Brian carried on their strange little dance at the diner, but otherwise Justin kept his distance.

 

What the fuck could he do?

 

_Take me back, also by the way, I’m probably positive, hope that’s cool?_

Yeah right.

 

+++

 

The third week of March found Justin in a cheap rented tux, handing out salmon mousse on toast points to drunk businessmen. The men were loud and red-faced from too many martinis, slapping each other on the back and yelling “Hey Jim!” a lot.

 

Justin didn’t mind, they didn’t pay any attention to him. He passed out the contents of his tray, then stood to the side of the room, people-watching. He itched for his sketch book, wanting to convert the men’s lurid expressions to paper.

 

“Hey Brian!” one businessman called, stretching out his meaty paw- “Come settle a bet!”

 

_And there he was-_

 

Brian appeared, dressed in black jeans and a crisp, white button down, martini in hand. Brian joined the men and gamely played along with their hetero rituals.

 

 _They must have a lot of money,_ Justin mused, _if Brian went along with it._

 

Brian told a joke and the men roared with laughter, clapping him on the back.

 

 _Does Brian even know straight jokes?_ Justin thought wondrously. _He must._

 

The men were still pealing with laughter when Brian turned, and like every fucking time, _every fucking goddamn time-_

 

his eyes landed on Justin.

 

So Justin fled.

 

+++

 

“You’re avoiding me,”

 

Brian had found him. The party was winding down, and Justin had been put in charge of clearing tables in a section that was closed off.

 

“Hi Brian, no I’m not,” Justin replied brattily.

 

Brian swayed on his feet. He was drunk.

 

“I’m working,” Justin warned.

 

Brian ignored him and sat down arrogantly at a table. Justin rolled his eyes and kept clearing plates.

 

“Why are you ignoring me?” Brian demanded.

 

“I’m not ignoring you,”

 

“You’re ignoring me and I don’t know why,” Brian slurred.

 

Justin turned to look at him- Brian was tearing a cocktail napkin into tiny shreds.

 

Brian was _wasted._

“Are you driving tonight?” Justin asked, worriedly.

 

“I took a cab, answer me-“ Brian batted back.

 

Justin crossed to the side table and poured Brian a large glass of water from one of the chilled pitchers. He dropped it in front of Brian and sat down across from him-

 

“Drink,” he ordered.

“Only if you talk,” Brian crossed his arms petulantly.

 

“Christ! You’re such a _fucking_ baby! I’m not ignoring you!” Justin snapped.

 

Brian smiled at his outburst, and politely drank his water, looking like the cat that got the canary.

 

“I’m not ignoring you,” Justin repeated gently, after Brian drained the glass, “I just don’t know what to say,”

 

Brian sniffed, then raised his hands and put them behind his head, casually.

 

“You don’t love me anymore, that’s it,” Brian stated, his eyes void of emotion.

 

“What gave you that idea?” Justin asked, alarmed.

 

Surely Brian knew- _For fucks sake, that was the ONE thing they knew_

 

Brian shrugged noncommittally. Justin narrowed his eyes, and then Brian smiled coyly. Justin couldn’t help but laugh-

 

“Oh my god, Brian Kinney, fishing for compliments!” Justin almost doubled over from laughing, Brian chuckled too.

 

“So you do?” Brian tested, still smiling, but there was a look of uncertainty in his eyes.

 

It caught Justin in the throat.

 

Justin nodded, shyly.

 

“Good,” Brian replied, and smiled like a triumphant school boy.

 

“So come home already,”

_oh god please_

_please_

“I can’t,” Justin said carefully.

 

“Why not?”

 

_I’ll destroy you_

“You.. consume me,” he said instead.

 

Brian raised his eyebrow, a smirk on his lips-

 

“Not like that, dickhead,” Justin rolled his eyes, “I mean. You take up all the air. I’m nothing next to you,”

 

“What the fuck are you blathering on about?” Brian asked, a warning note in his voice.

 

“You’re. …Well, You- You take up all the room, and I just follow you around like a lost schoolboy,” Justin tried to explain. “There’s no room for me in your life, I don’t know what I’m doing there, ”

 

“I told you, I want you there,” Brian snapped. “It’s **_your_** choice if you want to stay or not!”

 

“Yeah but it’s all on your fucking terms!” Justin retaliated.

 

“No it isn’t!” Brian replied, incredulously.

 

“What the fuck are you talking about Brian, _of course it is_!! Everything is on your terms! If you want to spend time with me, great, if not, I should just fucking get lost! You pick me up and put me down whenever you damn well please-“

 

“ ** _You lived with me_!** ” Brian thundered-

 

“Exactly!! **I** lived with **you** \- not **we** lived **together**! _”_ Justin snarled- “It wasn’t even! You want to go to Babylon, we go to Babylon, you want to stay in, we stay in, you decide everything, and when you change your mind at the last minute, it fucking hurts!” A lump started to lodge in Justin’s throat.

 

“You are such a fucking _child_ , my job was on the line, if I went with you to Vermont I would’ve lost my fucking job!” Brian ridiculed.

 

“This isn’t about Vermont!!” Justin exclaimed, “It’s about how if ever I want to do anything different, anything that means that _you_ have to follow _me_ , you dig your heels in and tell me to do it on my own! And I don’t want to do it on my own!”

 

Brian _fumed._

 

“What the fuck are you saying?! You’re saying you don’t want to be with me because I didn’t go with you to the _fucking_ movies when you asked!?” he mocked

 

“YES!” Justin roared, and Brian pulled back.

 

“Because you decided it was _your_ life! _Yours_. Not **_ours_** _.”_ Justin whispered achingly.

 

Brian looked at him like a goldfish- it was too much so Justin stood up and tried to find some air.

 

Brian stared at him, dumbfounded.

 

“That is so, so _stupid_ , that doesn’t even make any sense,” Brian said slowly.

 

Justin shrugged, too tired to fight anymore.

 

“I’m sorry,”

 

“And _Ian_ \- how does he fit into this very nice story you’re making up?“ Brian growled contemptuously.

 

“He made me feel important. Like I was worth something,”

 

Brian snorted, ready with an insult, but Justin beat him to the punch.

 

“Nah, I get it now- it was all empty. He said nice things, but...” Justin drifted off.

 

Brian waited.

 

“You exalted me- you held me _sacred_ , you saw me when no one else bothered,”

 

Justin fiddled with his sleeve.

 

“I like to think I did the same for you,” he added as an afterthought.

 

“I made a mistake. I’m sorry,” Justin bit his lip, “I’m sorry,”

 

Brian drew in a painful, shaky breath.

 

“What are we fighting for? This is so _pathetic_ ,”

 

That made Justin laugh, even though he was crying.

 

Brian stood, and sauntered over to him, casually, as if he wasn’t crying too. Justin tried laughing again, and patted Brian’s wet cheeks with his palms. God he was beautiful.

 

And suddenly Brian _surrounded_ him, devouring his mouth, swallowing his tongue and crushing Justin to him as if he were life itself.

 

They broke for air, and Brian rested his forehead against Justin’s.

 

“Come home,”

 

_I’ll destroy you._

 

“I can’t,”

 

+++

 

A week passed.

 

Brian stopped coming into the diner altogether.

 

Michael looked at him as if he’d murdered someone, but when Debbie quietly inquired what was up, Justin just told her it was for the best.

 

He’d never seen her more devastated.

 

+++

 

Thursday night.

 

They were asking him where he lived. It was 2 am, Woody’s was closing and Justin wouldn’t leave. It wasn’t his fault, it just seemed like his legs stopped working. Justin shrugged, his tongue too heavy with beer-

 

“Dunno” he slurred. The bartender rolled his eyes and yelled over his shoulder-

 

“Hey Johnny! Didn’t you say you knew this kid?”

 

Johnny came around the bar and put his beefy hands on Justin’s shoulders, helping to steady him. Justin swayed in his hands and giggled. The floor was sticky and it was a pleasant feeling, peeling his shoes up and re-sticking them

 

“Christ, yeah… let me call him”

 

_No no no no no no no don’t call him_

Justin tried to raise his head to protest, but it was heavy and the phone was already cradled in Johnny’s ear.

 

_No no no no please god no_

“Hey Em, yeah sorry to wake you-“

 

Justin blinked slowly. Emmett.

 

He could deal with Emmett.

 

+++

 

Justin slurred another apology as Emmett poured him on to the couch.

 

“Don’t worry about it Sweetie, Lord knows I’ve had my own nights of debauchery,” Emmett soothed as he helped Justin settle in. “You wouldn’t _believe_ what I can vomit up after too many cosmos,”

 

Emmett kneeled in front of Justin, and started work on his shoes.

 

“And besides, my lil’ ol’ sofa has seen a lot of action these last few months,” he remarked under his breath.

 

Justin looked down at him, his focus blurry. _What?_ Emmett didn’t seem to notice, he was fussing with Justin’s shoe laces.

 

“Why Brian was here just last weekend,” Emmett murmured lightly.

 

Huh.

 

Justin filed that away with all the other breadcrumbs he gathered up about Brian, and Brian’s life, and what Brian was up to now that Justin had broke his heart.

 

“Alright, lift!” Emmett commanded, and Justin lumbered himself upwards, so Emmett could pull him free from his jeans. Emmett then disappeared into his bedroom, and re-emerged with a colorful knitted blanket and a pillow, which he tucked around Justin in a makeshift nest.

 

“There we go,”

 

Emmett was so tender, a perfect mother hen, Justin thought

 

“Thanks Em, I’m sorry-“ Justin mumbled.

 

“That’s okay Sweetie- What’d you say, how ‘bout I make us a cup of tea?”

 

Emmett was already off, filling the kettle. Justin swayed and tried to stay upright. He’d vomited on the ride over, but he didn’t trust himself not to do it again.

 

“You know, you and Brian really need to stop whatever this masochistic thing is you’re doing to each other and actually talk,” Emmett mused loudly from the kitchen as the kettle brewed. He leaned on the doorframe of the kitchen to look at Justin.

 

“You’re both a mess. He’s drunk almost every time I see him now- you look like a walking corpse, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this bad,”

 

Justin shrugged- god he was fucking _sloshed_ -

 

“You are a fall down _wreck_ , sweetie- Christ, your hand hasn’t stopped tremoring since I picked you up!” Emmett tutted. Justin looked down at it helplessly.

 

Huh. Emmett was right.

 

“You need to talk to him,”

 

“I did talk to him,” Justin retorted, “ I fucking broke him,”

 

“Well you need to talk to him again, because it looks like you broke yourself,” Emmett advised.

 

The kettle clicked off.

 

“I don’t want to talk to him,” Justin chewed out.

 

Emmett ignored that comment and focused on the tea. He returned to Justin, and offered him a mug. Justin shook his head- he was too drunk and his hand was throbbing.

 

Emmett sighed loudly and sat down across from him on the coffee table. He looked at Justin thoughtfully, then carefully reached out to pet Justin’s hands.

 

“Is it Ethan? Are you still in love with him?” He asked gently.

 

Justin was suddenly, _painfully,_ so grateful for Emmett Honeycutt- that Emmett could see him beyond just whatever he meant to Brian, that he saw Justin as his own person. Justin couldn’t help it, tears started slipping down his cheeks.

 

Justin giggled, a hysterical high-pitched titter, then shook his head.

 

“No! No I’m not in love with Ethan,” he said bemusedly, and then felt immediately, _wretchedly_ bad.

 

Justin looked down.

 

+++

 

This afternoon had been awful- how could he forget it so quickly?

 

Justin’s heart panged at the memory-

 

Ethan had arrived at the diner, pale as a ghost, and Justin knew it in an instant. Justin trailed after Ethan to the park across the street so Ethan could give him the formal news.

 

“I’m sorry, Justin- I just… I don’t know what to do,” Ethan had cried. Justin felt his anger for Ethan drain away-

 

So fucking what if Ethan cheated, so what if he…

 

Nobody deserved this. Nobody deserved to be positive.

 

Ethan ended up folded in Justin’s lap.

 

“What am I going to do?”

 

Justin shrugged, and held him. He didn’t know what to do either.

 

He held Ethan for a quarter of an hour, then Ethan had sloped off down the street, still crying-

 

“ _I’ll be fine, don’t worry,”_

 

Ethan smiled as he walked away. He looked awful. 

 

_What about me?_

 

Justin had done the only sensible thing and went on a mission to get blackout drunk.

 

+++

 

“Why don’t you talk to him?” Emmett asked again, refocusing Justin.

 

Justin wiped his snotty nose and scrubbed his eyes, as if he could dig them out of their sockets.

 

“I don’t want to talk to Brian,”

 

Emmett’s hand was clasped around his. He waited for Justin, his doe eyes warm in the light.

 

“I don’t want him to know,” Justin admitted softly.

 

“Know what sweetheart?”

 

Justin squeezed his eyes shut. Emmett leaned forward, lacing his fingers with Justin’s.

 

He waited patiently.

 

It was too much.

 

“I keep thinking about my grave,” Justin confessed abruptly.

 

Emmett inhaled sharply- alarmed

 

_“What?”_

 

Justin felt his air sucked out- his lungs and guts- as if he would puke-

 

“When I was little, my Dad bought us all a family plot, so that we could be buried together- Mom, Dad, Molly and Me,” Justin explained, swaying and trying not to gag.

 

“It’s in a nice cemetery, one of my uncles is there,” Justin continued.

 

Emmett stared at him in horror-

 

“He put me next to him, my plot next to his- _father and son_ , he said, _we’ll be in Heaven together,”_

 

Justin was weeping again. He felt like barfing.

 

“I don’t want to be buried there Em, please don’t let them put me next to him! I don’t want to go there!”

 

Emmett scooped him up in a fierce embrace. Justin’s stomach turned but only harsh, panicky breath retched up.

 

“Sweetie, sweetie- why are you worried about that? Of course I won’t!” Emmett promised. He mashed Justin’s head into the cradle of his neck, soothing and rocking as Justin sobbed. “I promise you I won’t, I promise, I’ll make sure,” He chanted. Justin’s whole frame shook with the force of his cries. Emmett could feel his ribs through his shirt, and it made Emmett grip him harder. He held him until the worst of the sobs subsided, then pulled back so he could cup Justin’s face in his hands-

 

“Baby what is going on? Tell me right now, what’s making you so morbid?” He demanded.

 

Justin shook his head and covered his eyes with his palms.

 

He’d said too much.

 

Emmett jostled him-

 

“Talk to me Justin, what’s going on?!”

 

“Don’t tell Brian, please don’t tell him,” was all he could offer. Then Justin slipped out of Emmett’s hold, and pretended to pass out on the couch. Emmett shook him for a minute, until he bought the ruse, and was reduced to petting Justin’s hair.

 

Emmett sat over him for a minute, looming over Justin’s shrunken frame like an angel of mercy- Justin could hear the hitch of tears in Emmett’s breath.

 

 _Please go, please just go_ , Justin prayed

 

Emmett fiddled with the blanket, then tucked it in around him. Another moment passed, and Emmett got up.

 

+++

 

Emmett retreated to his bedroom, but he kept the lights off and the door open to the living room.

 

He knew Justin was pretending- so he waited until he could hear Justin’s soft snoring before picking up the phone.

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

March into April 

 

After ringing a couple times and getting a not-in-service message, Emmett gave up and slammed the receiver down.

 

Looks like Brian had disconnected his phone.

 

 _Of all the times_ , Emmett groused- then tried Brian’s cell phone. As it rang, Emmett tried to formulate what to say-

 

_Justin’s what? …Suicidal?_

Emmett knew in his gut that something was terribly amiss with Justin, but that word- _suicidal_ – felt wrong.

 

So what _was_ it?

 

He got Brian’s voicemail, and Emmett left a frustrated message-

 

_Brian, it’s Emmett, call me back asshole_

 

He thought about ringing Debbie, but she would definitely be asleep at this late hour, and he didn’t want to alarm her. He wasn’t sure yet how much of an emergency it was.

 

Emmett paced around his room, debating.

 

For a month, everyone had watched as Justin and then Brian collapsed in on themselves. Emmett wasn’t being hyperbolic when he called Justin a fall down wreck- the boy was a total mess.

 

At first, everyone attributed it to his breakup with Ethan.

 

God the kid must be humiliated- to have cheated on Brian, and then left him for a man who promised him eternal love and fidelity, only to discover his knight in shining armor was an absolute dog. And not only had Ethan lied and cheated- he’d cheated more than once (at least that was the word up and down Liberty Avenue).

 

_Karma was a real bitch._

 

So Emmett understood the hurt and shame Justin must be feeling, but Brian was no saint either. He’d practically shoved the boy into the violinist’s arms- leaving him no option but to go (This Emmett figured out by reading between the lines of what Michael did and did not say in his ravings about Justin).

 

That too made sense. As long as Emmett had known Brian, any time Brian felt vulnerable, he reverted to power plays. And Justin made Brian feel _all_ kinds of insecure. Brian only felt safe with his feelings for Justin if he knew he could control Justin, if he knew Justin loved him more, needed him more.

 

Truth of the matter was, Brian needed Justin just as much- and if no one was looking and if he didn’t think about it too deep, Brian was comfortable with that. But it seemed that once Brian consciously realized how much he loved Justin, he did his very best to run screaming in the other direction- or push Justin the other way.

 

Everyone figured that after Justin left Ethan, there would be a really shitty period where both Brian and Justin would torture themselves and each other (and by extent, everybody else!), but they all presumed that within a couple of weeks, Brian and Justin would be back together. They were like gravity – a force of nature – a natural fit. It was only logical.

 

_So why hadn’t they?_

 

Emmett thoughts drifted to the previous weekend.

+++

 

“Mind your own fucking business!” Brian seethed at Emmett, as he tried to open the door to his corvette. Emmett leaned against the driver’s side door, and Brian pawed helplessly at the handle, unable to budge it past Emmett’s weight.

 

Emmett raised an eyebrow.

 

Brian was so pitiful, it would’ve been funny if he weren’t absolutely hammered.

 

“Would you MOVE!?” Brian yelled.

 

“No, _asshole_ \- I’m not moving until you talk to me. And you’re not driving home, you’re _shit-faced,”_ Emmett said lightly, folding his arms primly like a queen.

 

Brian growled, then smacked his hand against the car and pushed away from Emmett, cursing. Brian took a wobbly box-step backwards, then turned away, his coat whipping around him dramatically.

 

It was snowing, large fuzzy flakes that floated on the air like tiny boats. Brian swayed, unsteady on his feet- his breath frosting the air.

 

“You know, this isn’t exactly my idea of a fun night either. I had plans to watch the Hedy Lamarr marathon and paint my toenails- but no… here I am, carting your drunk ass around, yet again,” Emmett remarked.

 

“So go home, I’m not asking you to be here!” Brian snarled.

 

“Fuck off,” Emmett batted back lightly.

 

Brian’s shoulders slumped in defeat. His chin dipped down to rest on his chest.

 

Silence fell between them.

 

Far across the parking lot, a group of stoned twinks trekked through the snow to their car, shoving each other playfully and throwing snow balls- “Oooh let’s go to Taco Bell!” one boy exclaimed. “Shut up Nate!” the group replied.

 

Their laughter sounded like twinkling lights.

 

“Brian?” Emmett asked gently.

 

Brian shook the cold off himself, then lifted his head and sighed- deeply, longingly.

 

“I’m not his keeper, Em- he’s a grown man, he can do what he wants,” Brian mused. He reached into the pocket of his pea coat and fished out a cigarette.

 

“You’re both miserable,” Emmett countered

 

“Yeah,” Brian acknowledged simply.

 

He lit the cig and inhaled. A long plume of smoke radiated up and out.

 

_Interesting-_

 

“So you talked to him?”

 

Brian closed his eyes and sighed.

 

“Yes, I talked to him,” he replied, as if humoring a schoolteacher.

 

Emmett narrowed his eyes.

 

“And what did he say?”

 

Brian shrugged and made an ineffectual hand gesture.

 

“Brian, you need to _really_ talk to him- you have to put aside your pride, speak honestly and tell him how you really feel-“

 

Brian started laughing- deep belly laughs-

 

“I’m serious Brian!-“

 

“-I know you are!” Brian exclaimed, “You can spare me the lecture Auntie Em,”

 

Emmett wanted to shake him, but soon Brian’s laughter subsided into wet coughs. Brian grimaced a smile.

 

“I did,” Brian shrugged, “I did all that, and then I asked him to come home,”

 

Emmett stared at Brian, awe-struck.

 

“He said no,”

 

A bleak, dark expression now clouded Brian’s face.

 

“That can’t have been all he said,” Emmett prodded.

 

Brian shrugged dismissively. Emmett waited.

 

“He said I’m too much,” Brian finally said- quietly, as if they were talking in church.

 

“ I take up all the room- there’s no space for him. I have to control everything and it squeezes him out,” he continued.

 

Emmett nodded thoughtfully, listening.

 

“I think he’s right,” Brian admitted softly.

 

He turned to Emmett then-

 

“And I don’t know what to do about it,” he said helplessly.

 

Emmett swallowed past the lump in his throat. He shrugged, then reached out for Brian.

 

“Come on, I’ll drive you,”

 

“I don’t want to go home,” Brian confessed, his words halting, slurred with tears.

 

“Then we’ll go to mine. We’ll get you stoned and we can watch Turner Classic Movies,” Emmett replied, helping Brian walk around to the passenger side door.

 

Brian hesitated.

 

“Don’t worry, Mikey’s at the professor’s tonight,”

 

Brian smiled gratefully, then slid into the passenger seat.

 

And a week later, Emmett found himself doing the same song and dance with Justin. 

 

 _Christ,_ Emmett thought as he drifted off to sleep,  _I'm getting too old for this shit._  

+++

 

When Emmett came to the next morning, Justin was already gone. He had left a note on the kitchen counter, along with twenty dollars -

 

_Thanks for taking care of me last night, some money for the cab ride. xo_

Annoyed, Emmett didn’t even bother to change out of his pajamas. He threw on his coat and snow boots and stepped out into the blustering snow.

 

+++

 

Justin was determined. He had today (Friday), and then tomorrow he would get tested. By Monday, he would know his results for sure, but until then, he would act like a fucking adult and get on with his life.

 

He went home, dunked himself in Daphne’s shower, and threw on a fresh set of clothes. He poured the rest of his anxiety meds down his throat and made it to the diner just in time for his shift. He kept his head down, and when Debbie complained that the delivery guy forgot to bring their week’s supply of eggs, Justin volunteered to hike through the snow to go get some from the grocery store.

 

When he returned, soaked to the bone from the sleet, Debbie said, deceptively casual-

 

“Em was looking for you sweetie,”

 

Justin shrugged awkwardly. She was looking at him with sad, expectant eyes, so Justin slunk off to the kitchen. Debbie turned to follow him, but was pulled away by an irate customer complaining about his pink plate special.

 

By the time Debbie sorted out the dickhead, and then dealt with the pack of German tourists that had descended all at once, it was 3pm and Justin had already left for his shift at the restaurant.

 

+++

 

Emmett found Daphne tucked into a corner of the university library, her hair piled on top of her head in a messy bun. She was busy scratching away in her notebook, and didn’t notice him until he sat down opposite her.

 

“Jesus Christ you scared me!” she cried, jumping a little.

 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to frighten you,” Emmett apologized. He unwound his scarf from his neck, shaking off the snow. It was horrible out.

 

“Thanks for meeting me,” he started.

 

“Of course, I’m sorry I didn’t have time to come meet you- god it must be awful out,”

 

Emmett smiled awkwardly, unable to make small talk.

 

“What’s up?” Daphne asked worriedly.

 

Emmett explained about Justin, and the previous night. Daphne’s expression got darker as he spoke, her brow furrowed with anxiety.

 

“- I don’t want to alarm anybody, but he just seemed… really, really _depressed_ , and in, like… actual pain- do you know what I mean?” he tried to describe.

 

Daphne nodded wearily.

 

“Yeah, no I know. Justin’s had rough go of it lately-“ Daphne then explained about Justin, the loss of his insurance and his increasingly poor health- his endless work schedule and new home on Daphne’s couch.

 

“What’s he gonna do!?” Emmett cried out, “There’s no way he can keep it up!”

 

“Well, I’m hoping he’ll cave in and finally tell his Mom. He doesn’t want her to worry. Otherwise I don’t know,” Daphne replied morosely.

 

“…What about Brian? Why won’t Justin talk to him?” Emmett inquired delicately.

 

Daphne sighed.

 

“I know he still loves him. But for whatever reason, Justin’s insisting on keeping his distance. He made me swear not to tell Brian,” she reported, “I think he doesn’t want to be a burden on Brian, which I told him, I think is stupid,”

 

“Yeah, I tried speaking to his majesty this morning,” Emmett replied, ”He was obviously worried, but he said he was going to try to respect Justin’s wishes and leave him alone. I guess that’s why he’s been avoiding the diner- trying to give the kid space, and not be so controlling,”

 

“God! They’re both so fucking stupid!!” Daphne groused, pushing her books away in exasperation.

 

“But so…. you don’t think he’d…” Emmett let the unspoken question hang in the air. Daphne considered it carefully before answering.

 

“In middle school, Justin was bullied a lot. It got really bad and he was cutting for a bit, but he hasn’t done that in a long time. Not even after the bashing,” Daphne replied.

 

“I’m watching him,” she continued.

 

Emmett nodded, grateful.

 

 _What was there to do?_ Emmett thought helplessly.

 

“Okay- well, let’s both watch him, and I’ll watch out for Brian,” Emmett concluded. “The minute this gets worse, I say we kidnap them both and lock them in a closet until they sort themselves out,” he finished.

 

“Amen,”

 

+++

 

 _Finally!_ Justin thought, as the two elderly ladies ambled up from their seats.

 

For the last forty minutes, Justin been trying to turn table fourteen, with no success. The ladies had finished their dessert, paid the check, and then promptly sat there for another thirty minutes.

 

“We’re still catching up,” The ladies sweetly told Justin when he had offered, very politely, to have a hostess bring them their coats. Helpless, Justin had wandered back to the waiter’s station, unable to do anything but wait.

 

Martin, the Maître’ d, tried too, without success, and then had glared at Justin as he made his way back to the front- they were late on seating a very important reservation.

 

As the ladies folded themselves into their coats and left, Justin smiled warmly and thanked them. He then raced back to help Eduardo bus the table. Within three minutes, the table was immaculate and re-set- they gave the signal to Martin that he could seat the new guests. Justin raced to the back and dropped the dirty dishes in the kitchen. He tried to collect himself- his hand had not stopped shaking for the last two hours.

 

 _Four more hours_ , he thought, steadying himself, _just four more hours._ Then he could go home, have a hot soak in Daphne’s tub, and then sleep a blessed 8 hours before his shift at the diner tomorrow.

 

Justin organized his waiter pad, and turned back to the dining room. He stopped short when he saw the new guests at table fourteen-

 

His blood ran cold.

 

No way, no fucking way-

 

The universe wasn’t this cruel.

 

Justin drew in a panicked breath-

 

Across the dining room, Gary Sapperstein looked up from his menu and spotted him. A moment of genuine surprise, and then a contemptuous smile slid across Sapperstein’s sour face.

 

_Fuck._

 

+++

 

Brian worked his way through two packs of cigarettes that night. He smoked, looking out on the night sky of Pittsburgh. Then he paced, from the windows around to the sitting area, down to the dining table and then back.

 

He was trying.

 

Trying to respect Justin- to not rush in and rescue, or manipulate or force.

 

He had taken Justin’s words to heart and was trying to do better, but he was finding it almost impossible after Emmett had cornered him in his office this morning.

 

Brian had listened, with growing horror, as Emmett recounted the previous night, and his fears over Justin’s mental health. Brian knew about Justin’s cutting, had seen it on his thighs the second night Justin ever spent at the loft.

 

“It happened a really long time ago,” Justin had explained, curled up in Brian’s arms.

 

“I don’t do it anymore,” he promised.

 

“Good,” Brian had said, “You’d be a fucking moron if you did,”

 

Brian didn’t share this with Emmett. Instead he just explained patiently that he was honoring Justin’s wishes, and trying not to do all the toxic things that had brought their relationship to this impasse.

 

But after Emmett left, it was all Brian could do not to race out and find the kid and drag him back to the safety of the loft. All afternoon, Brian sat through meetings, his fingers clenched- fighting the urge to call Jennifer, or to hunt down Daphne, do _something._

 

Brian exhaled thoughtfully.

 

Maybe tomorrow he would stop in at the diner. It couldn’t hurt to just check in, see Justin from way across the room. He could see for himself how Justin was faring- and more than likely, the kid would be fine, and he could leave straight away without any kind of encounter.

 

Finally he decided. Tomorrow, Brian would stop in the diner and get a coffee to go. He’d linger for no more than ten minutes, and would make sure not to say a word to Justin.

 

Brian finished the second pack, and eventually fell asleep on the couch.

 

He didn’t have the heart to crawl over into his empty bed.

 

+++

Saturday

 

Brian blew on his coffee, trying to cool it a little before taking a sip. The diner was unusually quiet- most people were keeping home from the blizzard. There was two feet of snow already on the ground, with at least 13 more inches expected. Shops were closing early, and everyone was hunkering in for the storm.

 

There was no sign of Justin. Usually he would have been in by now, but the weather was probably delaying him. Debbie had poured Brian his coffee, then stormed back to the kitchen to yell at the cook, so Brian hadn’t had the chance to interrogate her yet.

 

Brian was halfway through his coffee, and considering fucking his plan and ordering an omelet, when Daphne burst through the front door. Snow blew in behind her, and the chill made Brian sink into his coat a little deeper.

 

She marched headlong into the diner, not even seeing Brian as she scanned the booths. She turned around and jumped at the sight of him. Her eyes were red- she looked like an absolute _mess._

 

“You okay?” He inquired gently.

 

Daphne opened her mouth to reply, but Debbie interrupted.

 

“Hey Daphne, how you doing sweetheart?” Debbie greeted her cheerily, emerging from the kitchen with her hands full of plates.

 

“Is Justin here?” Daphne asked breathlessly.

 

“No honey, not yet. I’m assuming he got trapped in the snow, along with every other poor sack that has to work in this shit,” Debbie groused. She dropped the plates off at the corner booth, Daphne tailing her.

 

“Did he call or anything?”

 

“No honey, the phones have been in and out all morning,”

 

Daphne turned to Brian then-

 

“Brian? Have you seen him?” she demanded.

 

Brian shook his head, his stomach starting to bunch in knots. Daphne was ashen, tears in her eyes.

 

“Why Daphne? What’s going on?” Debbie asked worriedly, putting her hands on Daphne’s shoulders.

 

“Justin never came home last night,” Daphne rushed out.

 

Brian’s blood froze.

 

“He was supposed to work his restaurant job till 11, I called and they said he left around 11:30, but he never came home!” Daphne cried out.

 

“Okay,” Debbie said slowly, the way a mother does when she’s listening for all the facts and starting to make a plan.

 

Daphne was crying now-

 

“That isn’t all!”

 

Brian’s stomach flopped.

 

“This morning Ethan called-“ Daphne was shivering and swallowing her words.

 

“He- he said he wanted to wish Justin well today- and… and he said… he said he was glad Justin had a friend like me, who could be with him when he got the news!”

 

“What’d you mean Daphne? What news?” Debbie demanded.

 

Daphne was wailing now, trying to talk through the sobs, “I called the clinic, it’s closed! I called his Mom, she’s out of town-“

 

“What news sweetie?!”

 

Debbie had to shake her to get her to explain.

 

Daphne choked on the words, hiccupping in too much air in an effort to speak.

 

“What Daphne!?” Debbie cried.

 

“He’s positive. Ethan’s positive,”

 

Brian’s ears started roaring.

 


	5. Chapter 5

Saturday

4:07 pm

 

Brian gnashed his teeth, his bruised knuckles curling around the steering wheel in a vice grip.

 

His jaw ached, but he couldn’t seem to unclench it. He kept his eyes on the road. The snow had stopped, but the roads were covered in black ice.

 

Since this morning, the roar in Brian’s ears that had started first as a faint buzz, had steadily increased, until it was an almost overwhelming deluge.

 

He was _enraged_.

 

He was _terrified._

 

“Turn left,” Michael said. Brian swallowed hard, and complied.

 

It was almost sundown and still no sign of Justin.

 

The blizzard had dropped an additional 8 inches of snow that morning, and while it had still been stormy at lunchtime, by now the snow flurries had stopped completely. Now the world was quiet, blanketed in the serene hush that only ever comes with snow. The world was muffled and soft but Brian….

 

Brian was shattered.

 

 _Is this what love is_? He thought anxiously, _The feeling of your guts being ripped up through your throat, the burn of anxious bile? The endless, enormous need and the ghost sensation on your fingertips of this other person’s body- this other person who has cleaved you in half?! Who has disappeared?_

Brian wanted to strangle Justin.

 

Brian wanted to latch his mouth to Justin’s and breathe him in forever.

 

Brian was all over the place.

 

_Where the fuck was Justin?_

“Right at the stop sign,” Michael said, his eyes focused on the map. Brian downshifted to brake.

 

The previous eight hours had been torture.

 

 

+++

8:43 am

 

After Daphne blurted out the news about Ethan, Debbie had forced the shivering girl into a booth.

 

Brian stood there in shock. There were no coherent thoughts, just a jumbled cacophony of worry and terror and longing and care.

Debbie called to him, so Brian tried to regain his focus. His feet felt stuck to the linoleum floor, and leaden.

 

Brian joined them, sliding in next to Daphne. He put his hand on her back, trying to steady her. It felt a little awkward, hugging Daphne, but she seemed to calm a little so he kept his hand there. It was easier to focus on her.

 

“When did Ethan find out?” Debbie asked.

 

“I guess on Thursday and he says he told Justin right away- “ Daphne replied, “Justin was apparently going in today for his test, but the clinic’s closed, I called,”

 

“And you called his Mom?” Debbie asked.

 

Daphne nodded.

 

“I just got her voicemail, says she’s out of town on business,”

 

“What about his cell phone?” Brian interjected.

 

Daphne looked down bashfully at the table.

 

Brian furrowed his brows.

 

“He gave it up,” she answered finally.

 

“Why?” Brian drawled, his voice low, dangerous.

 

Daphne swallowed.

 

 _No point in hiding it now_ , she thought.

 

“He’s trying to save money. After he split up with Ethan… his Dad took him off his insurance, Justin’s been paying out of pocket,”

 

Brian blinked. Fury uncoiled in his belly.

 

“Craig kicked him off his insurance,” Brian repeated slowly.

 

“Yeah, that why he’s living on my couch! He sold all his stuff, he cut back on his classes and he picked up the stupid restaurant job, but even with all that he can barely afford his meds!” she explained breathlessly.

 

“He’s still taking them, right?” Brian demanded.

 

Daphne nodded.

 

“He’s not stupid, he’s just… broke,” She said helplessly.

 

“Why didn’t he tell us? I knew he was staying with you, but I didn’t realize he was so hard up! He could’ve had his old room back! I could’ve given him a fuckin’ raise!” Debbie cried.

 

Daphne shook her head, “I tried to get him to say something but… “ she trailed off awkwardly.

 

“But he has it in his head that he’s a burden,” Brian finished for her, “He doesn’t want to bother anyone, or even worse, ask for help and run the risk of not getting it, or being mocked. Wonder where he learned that from?” Brian said, self-recriminating.

 

Debbie smacked him on the head-

 

“Stop it! You can throw yourself a pity party after we find Sunshine!”

 

Brian swallowed hard. Fuck fuck fuck- all his baggage, all his posturing and being unsure and broken and scared- all his shoving away had taught Justin to be afraid of him. Brian had taught Justin that he was needy and pathetic, instead of kind and courageous and fucking brilliant.

 

Brian had shoved Justin so far away, that Justin didn’t even see himself clearly.

 

Brian wanted to take himself into the woods, dig a shallow grave and lie in it and pull heavy rocks over him until nature erased him from the Earth.

 

“And he works so much- _so much_ ,” Daphne continued, “And it’s like no matter how much he works, he can never break even!”

 

Daphne was crying again. Brian rubbed her back helplessly.

 

“And I had no IDEA about this shit with Ethan,” She blew her nose with a napkin, “I swear, if I had known about any of this, I would’ve made him talk to you guys sooner! God I want to kill Ethan,”

 

 _That made two of them_ , Brian thought grimly.

 

“And I don’t get how it happened!! Ethan said that Justin almost certainly has it, but none of it makes sense!” Daphne cried.

 

Debbie looked at her with extreme sympathy, as if she was too hysterical to understand. Daphne threw her napkin down in response-

 

“No, I know how Ethan got it- he cheated on Justin for a long time and he was probably reckless. But Justin- Justin always insisted on condoms! When I told him about this guy I hooked up with at a party, and he figured out I didn’t use a condom, he about ripped my head off!! He was always safe!” Daphne declared.

 

“Well sweetie, if they were in a monogamous relationship, and Justin trusted Ethan-“

 

Brian’s stomach flopped.

 

 _Please,_ he prayed to the God he didn’t believe in, _Please don’t let him have been that stupid. Please don’t let him have been so trusting, don’t let him be so betrayed. Please!_

Daphne shook her head.

 

“No way! There’s no way Justin would’ve been okay without condoms, trust me,” She insisted.

 

Brian stomach flopped again, _Please let her be right_.

 

Debbie sighed, “Well, condoms break. That’s what happened to Vic,” she added mournfully.

 

Brian gnashed his teeth- this wasn’t helping.

 

It didn’t matter if Justin was positive or not, if they couldn’t find him.

 

If he was out in this snowstorm, freezing to death.

 

If he had hurt himself-

 

Brian cut that thought off viciously and jerked himself up. They needed to think.

 

“When did you last see him?” Brian asked.

 

+++

 

9:40 am

They started by calling everyone who knew and loved Justin- his friends from PIFA, Emmett, Ted, Mel & Linds. Nobody had seen him.

 

Emmett hurried over from his apartment- it took him forty minutes through the driving snow.

 

Debbie and Daphne were drawing up a plan when Emmett arrived.

 

“Hey baby,” Emmett swept Daphne up into a bear hug, “Don’t worry, we’re gonna find his sorry little ass and drag him back,” he promised. Daphne rubbed her eyes and laughed, wiping away a tear.

 

Emmett eyed Brian thoughtfully. He was pacing up and down the length of the diner, the phone cord trailing behind him. Brian was in the process of chewing someone out on the phone when he abruptly hung up.

 

“Alleghany General’s a No,” he announced, slamming the phone on its cradle. Debbie crossed it off their list.

 

“Okay, Brian I think you and Em should go check his Mom’s house. Maybe he has a key and really is staying there while she’s out of town,” Debbie said, “Daphne and I will keep calling people. We’ve got a couple more hospitals and then…” she trailed off.

 

“And then?” Emmett asked.

 

“I’m calling the cops,” she said grimly.

 

Brian swallowed and nodded.

 

“Who’s calling the cops?”

 

Michael stood in the hallway to the kitchen, his hair covered in snow. He must’ve come in from the back. He looked at them worriedly.

 

“What’s going on Ma?” he asked, dropping a kiss on her forehead.

 

“Sunshine’s gone missing! Nobody’s seen him since late last night, we gotta find him!”

 

Michael shrugged and rolled his eyes.

 

Brian’s eyes narrowed.

 

“What,” Brian ground out, his voice menacing.

 

“Nothing!” Michael replied.

 

Brian glared at him until he broke.

 

“Oh come on, Justin’s a drama queen! He does this stuff for attention. I wouldn’t worry, he’ll show up. He always does,” Michael shook his head, tutting.

 

“Michael,” Emmett whispered, warningly.

 

“And I can’t believe you let him do this to you! The guy cheated on you, Brian, or did you forget? I know you feel sorry for the kid, but you don’t have to rescue him all the time!”

 

“You think I feel sorry for him?” Brian whispered, “You think that’s what I feel for him?”

 

Michael shrugged.

 

“You think that's what our relationship was? Pity?” Brian spat.

 

Michael turned to Debbie and Emmett, looking confused.

 

“Well, wasn’t it?” he replied.

 

Brian stared at Michael, as if all the air had gone out of his lungs. Emmett had never seen him so _hurt_.

 

Brian shook his head, then turned and walked straight out the front door to his car.

 

“Michael! Justin just found out he’s probably HIV positive!” Emmett snapped at his friend.

 

Michael stared at him like a fucking goldfish.

 

“What?! Justin’s positive?” He whispered in horror.

 

“Yeah! And we think he might try to hurt himself!” Emmett continued angrily.

 

Shame spread quickly across Michael’s face.

 

“Oh my god, I had no idea-“ he was interrupted by Brian, who stormed back into the diner.

 

“You!” Brian pointed at Michael, “We’re taking your car!”

 

“What’s wrong with yours?” Debbie asked.

 

“Fucking snow plow dumped a ton of snow on it, it’ll take too long to dig out. Come on,” Brian grabbed Michael by the lapel and dragged him to the back exit.

 

“Brian, I’m sorry-“

 

“I don’t have time to argue with you, we’re taking your car!” Brian huffed.

 

“It’s Ben’s Subaru,” Michael said dumbly, trailing after.

 

“Great, we’re taking Ben’s Subaru!” Brian snapped back.

 

+++

10:23 am

First Brian drove them to Justin’s other job, a fancy restaurant called _Les Grand Plaisir_. Brian took one look through the window and decided he hated the place. Nobody was there, so whoever Daphne had talked to earlier must’ve closed the restaurant and gone home. At least two more inches of snow had fallen.

 

Brian tossed his cigarette to the curb and slid back into the car.

 

Michael was staring at him mournfully. Brian closed his eyes and winced.

 

“Just get it out, for Christ’s sake,” he spat.

 

“I’m sorry. I had no idea, I’m so sorry,” Michael said, honestly, “I shouldn’t have said what I said about Justin,” he finished, somewhat lamely.

 

Brian seethed.

 

“You’re fucking right you had no idea! You have no idea who Justin is, you have no idea who I am, I’m surprised you even know your own fucking name!” Brian snarled.

 

“Hey now that’s not fair!! Justin’s always been dramatic! Remember the time he ran off to New York with your credit card? How was I supposed to know this was a real emergency?” Michael defended.

 

“Ask. You could have asked,” Brian snapped, “He’s a fucking kid, not this big manipulative monster that you make him out to be!”

 

“I don’t think he’s a monster, but I’m not going to apologize for not being Justin’s biggest fan! He lied to you, he cheated on you- he’s treated you like total shit, am I not allowed to be protective over you?” Michael replied furiously.

 

“I don’t need you to protect me anymore,” Brian whispered fiercely.

 

“You have no idea who he is,” he added.

 

“Brian, ever since the kid came into your life, you’ve been complaining about him! How else am I supposed to see him? You’re the one who griped about him, about how he was always following you, how he was your stalker-“

 

“YEAH! In the beginning, yeah! But guess what Mikey, I fell in love and he moved in, and I know we weren’t _your_ version of a happy couple, I know I fucked up and he fucked up-“ Brian raved, but Michael interrupted.

 

“Wait- you love him?”

 

Michael stared at him, bewildered.

 

Brian thumped his hand violently against the car ceiling.

 

“Are you stupid!!? OF COURSE I DO!” Brian roared.

 

The words hung in the air.

 

Michael gaped at Brian. Shaking, Brian turned the car on.

 

They drove on in silence.

 

+++

11:34 am

 

Jennifer’s town house was dark.

 

Michael rang the doorbell while Brian stomped around the side to the back door.

 

After no answer, Michael followed after Brian to the back porch. The walkway was iced over and Michael almost slipped.

 

Through the sliding glass patio door they could see no one had been there in awhile.

 

“He’s not here,” Michael said, and immediately felt dumb afterwards.

 

Brian laughed scornfully.

 

“No duh,” He muttered.

 

Brian cursed, and lit another cigarette. He smoked and paced, weaving a circle around the backyard.

 

Michael watched him. The snow was so heavy it almost blurred Brian out. Only his black pea coat made him visible in the whiteout.

 

Michael had never seen Brian this upset. Not even when Jack Kinney had broken Brian’s jaw in the 6th grade and Brian had hid out in Michael’s bedroom for a week. No matter what he’d been through, Brian had always carried on, cracking jokes and acting tough- it was his method of survival.

 

But this time …. this time, Brian was achingly vulnerable. And humorless. He was almost as white as the flurries of snow obscuring him.

 

Michael swallowed nervously and his stomach sank.

 

Brian was right, Michael really didn’t know his friend like he thought.

 

+++

1:06 pm 

Back in the car, Brian and Michael patrolled the neighborhood for an hour or so, hoping for any sign of Justin. With a blizzard out, there were only so many places he could be, and they were quickly running out of places to look.

 

They drove in silence, Brian grinding his teeth in frustration.

 

“You’re totally right,” Michael said finally. Brian peered at him curiously.

 

“About what?” he replied.

 

“About earlier, about not knowing Justin, about not knowing _you_. You’re totally right,” Michael admitted softly.

 

“I guess…” Michael drifted off thoughtfully. Brian looked at him, curious.

 

Michael flushed with shame and swallowed his words.

 

He needed to think about this first, before he said more half-baked things he’d regret. Ben always said, people often did only the bare minimum of self-reflection and then pronounced themselves enlightened, when really they had only scraped the surface of their shit.

 

Michael didn’t want to do that.

 

"I don’t want to give you a glib response or an empty apology. I’m gonna think about it Brian, about what you said,” Michael told him, “And then we’re gonna talk,”

 

Brian smirked.

 

“Talking is for lesbians,” Brian said wryly. Michael smiled.

 

“Well, we’re gonna do it,” was all he said.

 

Brian nodded, and returned his gaze to the road.

  

“Right now we need to find Justin,” Michael murmured.

 

+++

2:38 pm

Brian slid the Subaru into the Diner’s parking lot and threw the emergency brake on. As they started to get out of the car, Brian suddenly stopped, his eyes pinned on something by the Diner’s back entrance. Michael followed Brian’s gaze- _Ethan._

 

Ethan stood by the back door, anxiously puffing on a cigarette. Michael actually felt sorry for Ethan. He knew everyone else wanted him dead for putting Justin in danger, but Michael could only imagine how awful Ethan must be feeling. Not only did he find out he was positive, which was an enormous weight on its own, but Ethan had also given it to someone he loved.

 

Ben used to have nightmares, when he first found out he was positive- nightmares where he had given it to his lover, or his family or a random grocery store clerk. The shame and fear, Ben told him, was hard to let go of.

 

Nobody deserved this. Michael could only imagine how wretched the kid must be.

 

“Keep him away from me,” Brian murmured, so quiet, Michael almost missed it.

 

“Brian-“ Michael started, but Brian had already slammed the door and was trudging through the snow.

 

Michael cursed and quickly followed.

 

As they approached, Ethan looked up and called to them.

 

“Hey!”

 

Brian didn’t even look at him, just walked past him, around towards the front. Michael forced a smile in greeting to Ethan, but followed Brian. Ethan trailed after them.

 

“Hey! Wait a minute!” Ethan called out.

 

Brian kept moving, his shoulders hunched.

 

“Keep him away from me Michael, I swear to God-“ Brian growled. Michael turned to try to pull Ethan away, but the kid wretched himself from Michael’s grasp and lunged towards Brian.

 

“Look I know you’re mad at me right now but I just want to help!” Ethan cried out, throwing his hand out desperately to try to touch Brian’s shoulder.

 

In an instant, Brian turned around and _swung._

 

His fist pounded through Ethan’s nose, once, twice. His nose made a sickening wet crunch as it broke.

 

Ethan immediately doubled over, spitting blood and clutching his face. Brian grabbed him by the neck and shoved him up against the brick wall.

 

“You want to help?” Brian snarled, “FUCK OFF,”

 

“I didn’t mean to!” Ethan wailed, his nose a mess of blood and snot, “This isn’t easy for me either, I’m sick too!”

 

Brian scoffed, his lips curling in disgust.

 

“Save it, I don’t give a fuck about you,” Brian’s hands squeezed dangerously around his neck. Ethan started pawing at Brian.

 

“Brian,” Michael said, “You need to let him go,”

 

Brian didn’t blink.

 

“Brian…. please,” Michael begged.

 

Brian ground his teeth, squeezing harder. Ethan was choking, clawing at Brian.

 

Brian leaned in close-

 

“If I ever see you again, I’ll kill you,”

 

With that, Brian shoved him away. Ethan bounced off the brick wall and scrambled away, back to the parking lot.

 

Brian and Michael watched him go, both breathing furiously. As soon as Ethan turned the corner, Brian reached out and held onto the wall, as if he was winded.

 

Michael draped his arm around Brian. He was shaking.

 

“I almost killed him,” Brian muttered in disbelief.

 

Michael rubbed his back, as soothingly as he could muster, until Brian had calmed down.

 

“Come on, let’s go in,”

 

+++

3:01 pm

Inside the diner, Michael tried to get Brian to eat something, while Debbie filled them in. Brian had one bite, then pushed the sandwich away.

 

Debbie had called _everyone_ , every place and every name on the list she and Daphne had compiled. Every last friend of Justin’s, every favorite bookstore or record shop.

 

Daphne and Emmett took her car to check out St. James – that was a really long shot, but where else would he be in this weather?

 

Debbie called the hospitals, every single one in the greater Pittsburgh area – then rang them all again at noon. One hospital had an unidentified patient who matched Justin’s description, so Emmett and Daphne had swung by to check, but they called an hour ago and said it wasn’t Justin. They were going to swing by Daphne’s apartment so she could get a thicker coat, and they’d all meet back at the diner in a half hour.

 

“Fuck!” Brian slammed his fist on the counter top.

 

“I called Horvath, he said they’d file a missing persons and have their patrol cars notified. There’s not much they can do but keep their eyes out,” Debbie said.

 

Michael nodded. Brian peered out the window – four more inches of snow had dropped. Brian suddenly wondered if Justin had remembered his mittens. His hand always cramped when he was outside in the extreme cold.

 

 _He’s probably inside_ , Brian corrected himself, as the wind blew a flurry of snow against the window, _He’s got to be inside._

 

“And what about Ethan, did he know anything?” Michael asked.

 

Brian growled at his mention.

 

“We saw him out back,” Michael explained.

 

Debbie shook her head, “He was just worried and wanted to help. I told him we had it covered, he could go home,”

 

Brian looked at her gratefully.

 

Debbie snorted , “Yeah, no I want to murder him too,”

 

Debbie pushed the turkey sandwich back towards Brian.

 

“You need to eat,” she clucked.

 

The phone rang.

 

“When I come back that sandwich better be eaten!” She growled over her shoulder as she reached for the phone.

 

Brian half-heartedly folded the sandwich into his mouth. It was dry.

 

“What Daphne?!” Debbie said excitedly. Both Brian and Michael perked up.

 

“When?” Debbie asked.

 

“What is it?” Brian demanded.

 

Debbie listened, hope slowly spreading across her face. “Well that’s something!” she replied to Daphne.

 

“Give me the phone!” Brian barked.

 

“Okay, I’m gonna give you to Brian,” Debbie said, and then she pressed the phone into his hand.

 

“What happened?” He growled to Daphne.

 

“So we just got to my place, and it looks like Justin called and left a voicemail,” Daphne rushed out.

 

“What time?” He demanded.

 

“2:10. He didn’t say where he was, he said he was staying with his mom and not to worry,” she replied. Brian cursed.

 

“So at least he’s still alive,” Brian ground out bitterly.

“Yes! And, I used the redial and called the number where he called from. It’s a Borders bookstore on 6th,”

 

Brian could have fainted from the relief.

 

“Gimme the address,”

 

+++

 

3:47 pm

 

The Borders was completely empty. The lights were on, and cheery holiday music was playing, but there was no one in sight.

 

Brian and Michael raced through the shelves towards the checkout desk. A very bored middle-aged woman looked up from a copy of _Infinite Jest_. Before she could speak, Brian burst out a quick explanation and description of Justin.

 

“Have you seen him?!” He demanded breathlessly.

 

The woman smiled and nodded-

 

“Yeah he was here for a bit. He asked me if we had any books on Georgia O’Keefe,”

 

 _Of course he did,_ Brian thought.

 

“I think he almost read the whole book I gave him,” She chuckled.

 

Brian smiled wanly.

 

“- He said he was supposed to meet his friend, so I let him use the phone to call her,” she told them, “After that he left,”

 

“Do you have any idea where he went?” Michael asked.

 

“Um… I’m not sure,” She answered, “He did ask me which way the water was,”

 

Brian froze.

 

“Maybe he went there?”

 

+++

4:17 pm

Brian pulled up and stopped the car. There was a massive park, that stretched along the waterfront going south. The road carried on along the river going north. From looking at Ben’s road atlas, they had determined this park was the quickest way to reach the water from the Borders bookstore. 

 

The park was empty, blanketed in thick snow.

 

“I’ll check the park- you drive along the river, maybe he’s further up,” Michael said as he disentangled himself from the seat belt.

 

Brian nodded.

 

“I’ll call you if I find anything,” Michael promised. He opened the door and started to step out into the cold.

 

Brian grabbed his hand.

 

“Thank you,” he whispered. Michael swallowed past the lump in his throat.

 

“We’ll find him, Brian. I promise,”

 

Michael got out and slammed the door shut. He watched as Brian drove away. The red tail lights of the Subaru gleamed in the fading light.

 

Michael turned towards the park, and started walking.

+++

 

4:43 pm

 

Justin stared out at the water, watching the grey light slowly give way to night. It was still snowing, but lightly now. The worst of the blizzard had passed, and everything was covered in blankets of heavy, white snow. It was quiet, peaceful. The sky was an enormous sea of grey, and for the first time in two months, Justin felt like he could actually breathe.

 

Justin dangled his legs over the short wall he sat on, overlooking the river. An hour ago, he was shivering violently, but now his arms and legs were numb and pleasantly heavy. The cold had actually given way to a tremendous warm feeling- it felt so good, Justin had even unzipped his puffy coat to feel the wind a little better.

 

The lights of downtown Pittsburgh shimmered across the river. Orange boxes of light winked from the office buildings. They hung in the sky like warm, welcoming beacons, calling to him. It felt like winter when he was a child and Justin would race through the snowdrifts blanketing his neighborhood, passing the lights from kitchen windows where Mothers peered out, looking for their children to come home.

 

Justin didn’t know what to do, but he wasn’t ready to go home. Or anywhere else.

 

He wanted to stay perched on this wall and let the quiet invade his mind until it washed everything out.

 

A slight breeze ruffled his hair. Justin exhaled, and breathed deep and long. A weight that had hung around his sternum was loosening with every breath of cool air. Justin pulled off his mittens- his hands were deep blue at the fingers, yellowish in the palm.

 

 _That probably isn’t good_ , Justin thought distantly.

 

He sighed, and returned his gaze to the join of the Ohio and the Monongahela. Night was slowly glazing over the sky- the city lights reflecting off the snow and turning the sky pink.

 

 _How would you capture that sky on paper_ , Justin mused.

 

_How would you capture this exact moment, this feeling of lift and flight, of despair so deep it carved you out until you were light little bones, ready to blow away in the breeze?_

 

Justin was so buried in his thoughts, he didn’t hear Michael calling until Michael was upon him.

 

+++

4:50 pm

“Justin!” Michael called out, running across the park, his weight periodically dropping him through the crested snow.

 

Either the kid didn’t hear him, or was ignoring him. At least he wasn’t moving away.

 

Michael made it to the walled in overlook area and doubled over, gasping for breath.

 

“Justin!” he cried.

 

Justin turned, and was startled.

 

“Michael! What’re you doing here?”

 

He looked genuinely confused. Michael swallowed and took in Justin’s expression. He was pale, blue with cold, but his eyes… his eyes were empty, his gaze soft. There was no hint of manipulation…

 

 _Brian was right_ , Michael thought.

 

He approached Justin carefully, and leaned against the wall next to him.

 

“Daphne said you didn’t come home last night, she was worried,” Michael explained.

 

Justin smiled half-heartedly-

 

“I stayed at my Mom’s,” he offered.

 

Michael sighed.

 

“Justin… we know your Mom’s out of town. Everyone’s been looking for you, all day,” Michael said gently.

 

Justin looked down, shame blossoming across his face.

 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to worry everyone. I’m fine,” Justin replied.

 

Christ, the kid looked almost dead. He was blue all over-

 

“How long have you been out here?” Michael asked quietly.

 

Justin shrugged.

 

“I dunno…. not long,”

 

Michael turned his gaze out at the fading light over the Ohio river. It was about a 15 foot drop into the water below, but right now it didn’t seem like Justin was interested in jumping in. That was good.

 

Michael stepped a little closer, so he was within arms reach- _just in case._

 

“We should probably get inside, it’s freezing out here,”

 

Justin didn’t respond, not even a shrug. Michael swallowed nervously.

 

“…. Ethan called. He told Daphne… that’s why… that’s why we’re all worried,”

 

Justin turned his head and looked away.

 

“Why didn’t you tell anyone?” Michael pressed gently, “I know obviously not Brian, and I’ve been a fucking prick to you, but why not Debbie? Or Vic or Ben?”

 

“I didn’t want to worry her, especially since I don’t know for sure yet. And talking to Ben or Vic about it just seemed…. unreasonably cruel, selfish,” Justin replied, his face still turned away.

 

“Selfish? What do you mean, _selfish_? If anyone can understand what you’re going through, it’s them,” Michael replied.

 

“Well yeah, but- how many people _only_ talk to Ben about being HIV positive? How many people only see Vic as someone who has HIV? I didn’t want to use them like that,” Justin explained, “Vic would complain about it all the time!”

 

Michael raised his eyebrows as Justin continued-

 

“And, it’s like- the one time I actually make an effort to talk with Ben would be when I’m terrified I have HIV and expecting him to take care of me. I’d be using him. That’s not fair to him- it might retraumatize him or fuck, if it turns out I’m negative, how shitty would that be – like ‘Hey thanks for talking me through being positive, but now I’m not, I don’t need you anymore, thanks bye!’”

 

Michael looked at Justin wonder.

 

He’d never thought of it like that. That his partner would be weary, angry about being forced into that role all the time - that he would never be allowed to just be _Ben_. Ben separate from this disease.

 

Gratitude and tenderness slid their way down behind Michael’s eyes, watering them.

 

“I hadn’t thought of it like that,” Michael offered, “But you - _worrying_ over all that – I know he wouldn’t mind helping you,”

 

Justin shrugged. Michael sighed.

 

“Look, I need to apologize to you,” Michael said.

 

Justin looked at him then-

 

“No really,” Michael continued in earnest, “Since you came into Brian’s life, I’ve been a total prick to you. I’ve been jealous of you, and I haven’t treated you fairly. I haven’t treated Brian fairly. I guess… I just keep seeing him as this thirteen year old boy who used to curl up on my floor whenever his Dad…” Michael trailed off awkwardly.

 

He wasn’t sure what Brian had said about his childhood.

 

“…Beat the shit out of him?” Justin finished, after a moment.

 

 _Huh,_ Michael thought, _so Brian had told him._

 

“Yeah. I thought I was being protective, but actually… I think I’ve been holding him back. And the way I’ve behaved… it’s more about me, than anything to do with Brian, or with you,” Michael confessed.

 

Justin quirked a smile, his eyes searching into Michael’s. Tears welled in Justin’s eyes, so he turned back to the river.

 

“Thanks,” he said gruffly. Michael’s eyes were wet too.

 

“Okay!” He said, “Let’s get down off this wall, I think my dick is about to freeze off!”

 

They both laughed, and Michael put his hands on Justin’s waist to help him down. As soon as Justin’s feet landed back on solid ground, his weight gave out. Michael steadied him- god the kid was light as a feather.

 

“I think my legs froze off,” Justin joked. Michael grimaced a smile- he didn’t say it, but looking at Justin up close, and holding his ice cold hands, they probably needed to take him to the hospital and make sure he didn’t have hypothermia.

 

Michael helped Justin zip up his coat, then helped him limp over to a bench. Once Justin was settled, he pulled his cell phone from his pocket.

 

“Who’re you calling?” Justin asked- his words slurred from the cold. Michael wrapped his scarf around Justin as he listened to the phone ring.

 

“Brian- he was going to check further along the river, but I think he’ll be close by by now,” Michael replied. Justin’s hand darted out and clutched the front of Michael’s coat.

 

“Hang up!” He begged, desperately, “I don’t want him here,”

 

“Justin! He’s terri-“ 

 

“Hey,” Brian answered, his voice terse across the phone. Michael kept his mouth clamped shut, staring at Justin anxiously. Justin shook his head viciously.

 

“He can’t see me like this,” Justin whispered.

 

Michael’s heart clenched.

 

“Michael?” Brian’s annoyed drawl resonated from the phone, and lingered between them.

 

“ I have to,” Michael whispered back.

 

“HELLO!!?” Brian yelled-

 

“Brian, hey it’s me,” Michael replied, putting the phone to his ear. Justin was up immediately. He hobbled away from Michael as quick as he could. Michael gave chase.

 

“I found him, he’s alright,” Michael reported, trailing after as Justin made his way down the wall along the river, trying to escape him. Justin could only move so fast, and Michael was upon him easily.

 

“Where are you?” Brian replied breathlessly.

 

“At the far end of the park… by the overlook, the one by the parking lot,” Michael answered quickly. Justin reached the end of the overlook, where the wall became an L and looped back around. There was no way around the wall, so Justin was forced to turn back the other way, back towards Michael.

 

“Is he alright?” Brian demanded. Justin was now doing a funny little loop around the overlook, hemmed in by the wall on one side, and Michael on the other.

 

It would be kind of funny if it wasn’t so sad.

 

“Yeah, we’re good, just- _get here_ ,” Michael replied nervously.

 

“I’ll be there soon,” Michael heard the engine rev as Brian hung up.

 

Michael pocketed his phone, and carefully approached Justin, who had exhausted himself and was now sitting on the ground, leaning against the wall in a little ball.

 

“He knows, doesn’t he?” Justin whispered with horror.

 

Michael nodded.

 

“He’s scared out of his mind, he’s been looking for you all day,” Michael said coaxingly.

 

Justin was crying.

 

“I didn’t want him to know, he’s going to be so mad,”

 

“Well yeah,” Michael answered, “Because he loves you. He’s terrified because he loves you,”

 

God help him but it was true, Michael saw that now.

 

“I don’t want to hurt him! I wanted to let him go so he wouldn’t get hurt,” Justin sobbed. Michael put his arms around him.

 

“I don’t think love works like that,” Michael replied.

 

“All I do is hurt him,” Justin said helplessly.

 

“I know you’re still ashamed about Ethan, and you feel betrayed. The fact that you let someone… _in like that_ , and then they turn around and betray your trust, and put your life in danger…. I can’t, I can’t imagine how painful that must be,” Michael soothed.

 

“I didn’t let him,” Justin murmured against his coat.

 

Headlights poured over them from the parking lot- Michael was so distracted by Brian’s imminent arrival that he almost _missed it._

 

“What?” He whispered.

 

“ I didn’t let him, he.... never mind,” Justin shook his head.

 

Michael stared at Justin in horror.

 

“Justin, did Ethan….”

 

Justin didn’t reply- he was looking over Michael’s shoulder at Brian, who had emerged from his car and was striding purposefully across the park towards them. Justin clamored to his feet.

 

“Justin!” Michael urged, grabbing hold of Justin’s hand.

 

“It’s fine, Michael,” Justin replied, wiping his eyes.

 

He stood as best as he could, his body shaking, wracked with cold, and turned to face Brian.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Sorry for the delay, real life got away from me last week!


	6. Chapter 6

Saturday

 

5:26pm

 

 

Brian didn’t think, he _couldn’t_ think.

 

One minute he was racing across the park, and then Justin’s pale face appeared in the beam of the headlights, and the weight that had been sitting on his chest all afternoon burst.  

 

“Brian?” Justin called out anxiously, his voice faint across the park.

 

Brian couldn’t stop. He launched himself at Justin, and crushed him in close to his chest. Justin was shuddering, so Brian gripped him tighter, scooping him closer as if he could pull Justin into him.

 

“It’s okay, Brian, I’m okay, I’m okay,” Justin choked out. His voice was so small and vulnerable Brian couldn’t take it. He squeezed his eyes shut and buried his face in Justin’s neck, taking in lungfuls of Justin’s smell.

 

He was alive.

 

_He was alive._

_Fuck!_

 

Brian tried not to cry. He coughed and swallowed down his tears, and pulled back to look at Justin.

 

Christ, his face was _blue_.

 

Justin looked away, shame splotched across his pale face.

 

“Look at me!” Brian demanded, cupping Justin’s frozen cheeks in his palms, “Look at me!”

 

Justin turned his eyes up to look at Brian. He was crying- slow, unstoppable tears. The humiliation and fear in his eyes nearly broke Brian, but he was too angry to stop. He clutched Justin’s face tightly.

 

“Don’t ever do that again,” he said roughly, “Don’t you _ever_ do that again, you hear me? Fucking promise me!!” He snarled.

 

Justin hesitated, then nodded, his eyes red and swollen. He swayed in Brian’s hands, his hands latching on to Brian’s wrists in an attempt to steady himself.

 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-“

 

Brian swallowed his apologies and crushed his mouth to Justin’s. Justin whimpered, and clung on for dear life.

 

Brian pulled away again, and ran his fingers along Justin’s face and neck, wiping away his tears and taking inventory.

 

 _Fuck, where was his hat?!_ Brian thought, as he ran his fingers through Justin’s hair.

 

“Brian,” Justin whimpered, “I’m fine,” he said, but Brian ignored him.

 

Justin was cold, more cold than Brian ever thought a human could possibly be. Justin was slowly lurching back and forth, his eyes empty and unfocused- as if he were drunk. He clutched weakly at Brian’s coat, his fingers frozen into brittle claws.

 

“Fuck,” Brian spat, grabbing at Justin’s hands, and rubbing them gently, “How long have you been outside?”

 

Justin shook his head but couldn’t reply. His eyelids drooped.

 

“Justin?!” Brian asked frantically.

 

Justin was nodding off.

 

Michael suddenly appeared over Justin’s shoulder.

 

Brian blinked. He’d completely forgotten about him. Michael looked stricken, and rubbed Justin’s back.

 

“We need to get him to the car,” He said.

 

Brian nodded.

 

+++

 

As Brian huddled Justin into the backseat, Michael turned the heat to full blast and quietly called Deb. Under the dim overhead light, Brian peeled off Justin’s puffy coat, only to discover Justin’s t-shirt and jeans were soaked through from the snowstorm.

 

“Fuck!” Brian cursed under his breath.

 

“M’sorry,” Justin slurred. Brian cupped his face, and Justin blinked at him like an owl.

 

“Sunshine,” Brian murmured roughly, “I need you to tell me. How long have you been outside?”

 

Justin coughed, the sound was spongy and wet. It made Brian wince.

 

“I wasn’t thinking, I just wanted air, I didn’t mean to make you worry,” Justin replied.

 

“All day?” Brian pressed.

 

Justin nodded, his head hanging heavy off his neck.

 

“What about last night, were you outside last night?” Brian urged.

 

_Please say no_

 

Justin nodded bashfully at his lap.

 

Brian growled, then pulled him into his chest. He turned to Michael.

 

“We need to go to the hospital,” He said.

 

“Noooooo,” Justin whined, pawing at Brian’s chest. Brian bit back an angry retort and wrapped his pea coat tighter around Justin.

 

Michael pulled the emergency brake off, and rushed into the phone-

 

“Ma, we’re gonna take him to the ER, I’ll call you back when we get there,”

 

Michael closed his phone and threw it into the passenger seat. He moved the car into gear, and slowly pulled them back onto the road.

 

+++

 

The hospital was bright and noisy. The flickering LED lights hurt Justin’s head, and somewhere a baby was crying. Justin clung to Brian’s hand, and tried not to throw up.

 

The receptionist looked angry at them, but Justin couldn’t figure out why.

 

“He’s not drunk, he’s got fucking hypothermia!” Brian snapped at her.

 

Brian loudly went on to tell her the exhaustive list of Justin’s allergies, and a truncated history of his brain injury, when _finally_ an ER nurse stopped as she was walking by and took a proper look at Justin. She immediately demanded they be ushered to a bed.

 

“Go,” Michael said, brandishing his vibrating cell phone, “I have to answer or they’ll never stop calling!”

 

Brian nodded, then shot the receptionist a spiteful grin as he and Justin were led from the waiting room.

 

The nurse showed them to a tiny room, crowded by two beds and no chairs. The nurse ordered Justin out of his soggy clothes and ran off to fetch blankets.

 

Brian lifted Justin carefully onto one of the pallets, then helped him strip. Relief flooded him as he uncovered Justin’s pale thighs, which were unblemished by new cuts. That relief faded quickly though as he encountered Justin’s prominent rib and hip bones.

 

 _One thing at a time_ , Brian thought, gnashing his teeth.

 

The nurse returned with a gown and heavy blankets. Brian held Justin upright and helped the nurse re-dress him in a green hospital gown. As the nurse rolled thick socks onto his feet, Justin started shaking, violently _,_ and his teeth began clattering. The sound was vicious, and grotesquely loud.

 

Justin clung to Brian’s shoulders for dear life.

 

“That’s a good thing,” a nurse said, taking in Brian’s stricken face, “The shaking- it means his body’s warming up,”

 

Brian nodded quickly.

 

“How long was he outside for?” she asked.

 

_God help him_

“A day and a night,” He replied, forcing his voice to stay emotionless.

 

“Has he taken anything? Any drugs? Any alcohol?” she asked.

 

“Justin?” Brian prompted.

 

Justin shook his head, and replied, “No, nothing,” His voice was garbled by his clacking jaw.

 

“When was the last time you ate? Or had any water?” the nurse asked.

 

“Yesterday? I’m sorry, I don’t remember,” Justin stuttered, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he chanted, almost completely out of it.

 

Brian swallowed hard, and wrapped another blanket around him.

 

“You his partner?” The nurse asked. Brian finally zeroed in on her.

 

Josefina, her name tag read.

 

_Was she a friend, or a foe?_

 

_Fuck it –_

 

Brian nodded, “Yes, he is,”

 

Josefina smiled, “Don’t worry, we’ll get him warmed up, he’s gonna be just fine,”

 

Brian tried to smile, but he still felt like crying.

 

“Don’t let him fall asleep, I’m gonna start prepping an IV, okay?” she said. Brian nodded, then watched her brown curly hair swing behind her as she disappeared back out the door.

 

Brian looked down at Justin, who was eying him mournfully.

 

“M’sorry,” Justin whispered, his eyes closing.

 

Brian shoved down the surge of fucking _feeling_ that swooped up from his stomach.

 

“You hear what she said, asshole? You gotta stay awake,” Brian told him.

 

Justin opened his eyes. Brian started running his hands methodically through Justin’s hair.

 

“M’kay,” Justin’s eyes drooped shut.

 

Brian pinched him, hard, “Nope! Talk to me! Where the fuck did you sleep last night?” he demanded.

 

Justin swallowed and tried to keep his eyes open.

 

“…Molly’s old playhouse. I took the bus, but then I’d forgotten, and the bus had stopped, so I stayed,” Justin explained disjointedly.

 

Brian felt like barfing.

 

It must’ve been 10 degrees last night. Justin could’ve died in his own childhood backyard and no one would’ve known.

 

Brian breathed deep, and continued petting his hair.

 

“And today, where the fuck were you all day today?” Brian bit out.

 

“Walking, I didn’t know,” Justin slurred.

 

Brian clenched his jaw.

 

He had a thousand other questions, thrumming in his throat, but he swallowed them. Justin had the current mental capacity of a wasted freshman on pledge week, and Brian knew if he got started, he wouldn’t be able to stop yelling and screaming and throwing things until he knew the full story, had fucking fixed everything and had his tongue and cock buried so deep inside Justin that they both forgot their names.

 

Justin was drifting off again, so Brian pinched him, _harder._

 

“State capitals, asshole! Louisiana, go!“ He ordered.

 

They played the pathetic game as Josefina, returned with hand warmers. Brian followed her instructions and tucked the hand warmers into Justin’s armpits, knees and groin, as she ran Justin’s vital signs.

 

“South Dakota?” Brian prompted. Justin slurred back, “Pierre,”

 

 _Fuck this kid is smart_ , Brian thought wryly.

 

Josefina tutted, releasing the blood pressure cuff.

 

“OK, baby, your pulse is too weak right now, and your blood pressure is very low. You got a temperature of 83- which is really not great. I’ve got the custodial staff bringing up some electric blankets, and someone should come by in a few minutes with warm water, which you need to drink, okay? It’s gonna warm you up,” she told Justin, breezily, factually, as if she was explaining how to use a microwave.

 

Justin nodded dumbly.

 

“I’m coming back right now with the IV, okay sweetie? You’re dehydrated,”

 

Brian thanked her quietly, and she left, passing Michael as he rejoined them.

 

Michael tucked his phone into his pocket and stood next to Brian, both of them looming over Justin, who was now wrapped in so many blankets you could only see his face.

 

“How you doing?” Michael asked him.

 

“Reno?” Justin replied stupidly. Brian ignored him, and started to massage Justin’s right hand.

 

“He’s got bird brains right now,” Brian told him, “How’s everyone?”

 

Justin winced as Brian worked the claw so it would open up.

 

“I’ve got them to hold off for now, but you know my mother,” Michael reported.

 

Brian chuckled grimly.

 

“I do indeed,” he replied wryly.

 

“Besides, with all the snow, it’s really not safe. Ben might come by later,” Michael said.

 

Josefina returned, IV kit and needle pack in hand. Brian and Michael moved back so they could give her room to work.

 

As she started unwrapping the sterile needle kit, Michael suddenly grabbed Brian.

 

“Did you tell them?” Michael murmured quickly. Brian looked at him, completely confused.

 

“What?”

 

Michael immediately turned to Josefina, who was starting to swab Justin’s arm-

 

“You need to know, there’s a chance he’s HIV positive!”

 

She stopped and turned to them.

 

Justin screwed his eyes shut in shame.

 

Brian felt his heart stop.

 

Oh yeah, _that_.

 

“He’s HIV?” She asked.

 

“We don’t know yet, he’s just found out his ex-boyfriend is HIV positive, so there’s a chance he has it,” Michael said plainly.

 

Josefina turned to Justin.

 

“M’sorry,” he told her, mortified.

 

Brian chewed his lips nervously.

 

Josefina reached into the pocket of her scrubs, then rubbed Justin’s back.

 

“Don’t worry baby,” she cooed, “I’m gonna use gloves, we’ll be real careful,”

 

If Brian hadn’t been beaten, _for years_ , by his parents who used the Lord’s name while they belted him, he might well have suddenly believed in a benevolent God- all because of the compassion that Josefina, a UPMC Presbyterian ER nurse, showed Justin in those five seconds.

 

Brian swallowed, his eyes wet.

 

Josefina put on her gloves, and went about hooking Justin up to the IV. As she worked, Michael tugged gently on Brian’s sleeve.

 

“I need to talk to you,” he whispered.

 

+++

 

Brian followed Michael out into the hall.

 

“Come on, come sit down,” Michael led him down a few doors, to a row of chairs situated in the hallway by a coffee station.

 

“He’ll be fine for a couple minutes, come,” Michael coaxed. Brian followed helplessly. His legs were throbbing with adrenaline, as if he’d just run a marathon.

 

“Sit,” Michael gently pushed Brian into a seat, and fixed him a cup of coffee.

 

Brian took the styrofoam cup and held it awkwardly.

 

“What, what’s up?” Brian asked.

 

Michael hesitated.

 

“I need to tell you something. I don’t want to tell you, but I think you need to know,” He started.

 

Brian raised an eyebrow.

 

“What?”

 

“It’s something Justin said, when I found him,” Michael explained. Terror crashed over Brian’s face, so Michael continued immediately.

 

“He wasn’t suicidal, I really don’t think he was, or _is_ \- I really don’t!” Michael assured him, “He was just sitting on the ledge by the river, but I don't think he was gonna... like, jump or anything, I think he really just wanted air, like- he was just, fucking _out_ of it, you know what I mean?”

 

“Okay?” Brian replied, confused.

 

“It’s about Ethan….” Michael stopped. He sat there for a second, trying to work up the courage.

 

_This was going to break Brian’s heart._

 

“Fuck fuck fuck,” Michael shut his eyes then –

 

“I think Ethan raped him,” Michael rushed out.

 

The words hung between them, bald and hideous. 

 

Brian just stared at him, not processing.

 

“I said to him, I said- ‘I know how hurt you must be, that your ex betrayed you, especially after you let him in, in such an intimate way,’” Michael hurried to explain, “And he said-“

 

Michael choked.

 

“He replied, ‘I didn’t let him, I didn’t let him,’”

 

Brian’s gaze was endless.

 

Empty.

 

“That’s all he said, but… it wasn’t a mistake,"

 

Brian put the coffee on the side table, next to a stack of magazines. 

 

"And I don't know if I should've said anything, it’s not my place but I don’t know, like if Ethan’s going to try to hurt him? If he's  _been_ hurting him? Or what’s going on? Or if this means actually Justin  ** _is_** suicidal, and we need to watch him more…And Justin’s been lying about everything and we can’t help him unless we know what's actually going on-” Michael abruptly cut off his rambling.

 

Brian was pale, mute.

 

His gaze was unfocused, as if he was watching an insect from very far away.

 

“Brian, are you okay?“

 

Michael gently rested his hand on Brian’s back.

 

Instantly, Brian folded in half, and promptly threw up all over the floor.

 

+++

 

Michael made a game plan, as Brian rinsed his mouth out in the bathroom sink.

 

“Ben’s going to get a ride from one of his neighbors, he’s gonna be here in an hour. I think he’ll be good to have around, and Justin can talk to him about… you know,”

 

Brian wiped his mouth on a scratchy paper towel.

 

His hands were shaking, and still swollen from hitting Ethan.

 

_Should have fucking killed him_

 

Michael continued, “Once they get his temperature up, they can do the next test,”

 

Brian looked at him, confused.

 

God he felt shattered, his brain spilled on the floor.

 

“He was supposed to get the second HIV test today, right?” Michael said, “They can give him one here,”

 

Brian’s face contorted with pain, but Michael held firm.

 

“It’s better to know tonight, to get it over with. That's what Ben says, it’s the waiting, it’s the unknown,” he said gently. Brian nodded, and let out a shuttery breath.

 

“You’re here- you’re here with him,” Michael cajoled, running his hand up and down Brian’s back.

 

Brian shook his head.

 

He was powerless.

 

Utterly powerless.

 

“You’re here, Ben will be here, I’m not going anywhere,” Michael continued.

 

Brian hung his head and tried to focus on the tiling on the floor. They were a mess of blurry, grey pebbles.

 

“Look at me,” Michael said, “Please?”

 

Brian huffed out air, trying to stop himself from feeling. Michael gently turned his face up.

 

“Listen to me- Ben will be the first one to tell you, HIV is **_not_ ** a death sentence. And fuck, my Mom can tell you, _first hand_ , that being raped does not end a person, _**it does not destroy you**_ ,” Michael said fiercely.

 

“He will survive Brian, he will, I fucking promise you,”

 

+++

 

Michael dropped Brian off at Justin’s room, then went in search of the cafeteria.

 

“You’re going to eat, you’ve been running on empty all fucking day,” Michael threatened from the elevator as the doors shut on him.

 

Brian smiled, half-heartedly, then turned back to the room. He paused at the doorway and took in the waif-like figure occupying the bed.

 

Justin was listening to Josefina tell a story. He was obviously trying to focus his whole concentration on her, but having trouble keeping up. He smiled at her, a wan smile, but a smile none the less.

 

In two seconds, Brian was right back under that stupid fucking lamp post, hard and intrigued and fucking _beguiled._

 

Brian swallowed past the cement in his throat, and entered. Justin’s eyes found his, and he smiled- nervous, but hopeful.

 

_Gorgeous._

 

Brian sat on the bed and played with his feet, pulling at the wooly socks.

 

“How’s his temperature?” He asked.

 

“Much better!” Josefina said brightly, “We’re up to 85, these electric blankets are working wonders! Keep drinking sweetie,” She urged to Justin, who had a cup of warm water balanced in his lap. Justin hesitantly took a sip.

 

His cheeks looked warmer. Peach-toned. 

 

“I’m gonna go see when the doctor’s coming by, okay?” Josefina smiled at Brian, who nodded his thanks.

 

She closed the door behind her as she left. 

 

As soon as they were alone, Justin hesitantly reached out for Brian’s hand.

 

It was strange, formal almost.

 

Brian had done every kinky thing under the sun to this kid, but somehow, holding his hand felt _weird_.

 

Justin held Brian’s hand, and smoothed his thumb over Brian’s swollen knuckles.

 

“What happened?” he asked, tracing his fingers over the torn flesh.

 

Brian shrugged.

 

“It’s nothing,” he replied.

 

Brian squeezed Justin’s hand. It felt nice.

 

Justin took in a deep breath.

 

“Thank you,” He said simply.

 

Brian looked at him.

 

“What for?”

 

“Finding me. I’m sorry, I… I don’t know what’s wrong with me, why I did that, why I just… walked off like that,”

 

Justin started crying.

 

_Jesus fucking Christ, they could drown a goddamn army with the amount of tears they were both producing._

 

“I’m sorry I put you through that,” Justin finished lamely. 

 

Brian shook his head, “Don’t be, nothing to be sorry for,” he said gently.

 

Justin closed his eyes then, and took in a long and jarring breath, as if he was ramping up to something.

 

Brian looked at him, curiously.

 

“What?” He asked.

 

Justin exhaled, then looked him dead in the eye.

 

“I want you to know you can go. You don’t need to stay,” Justin said.

 

Brian’s heart stopped.

 

Justin gently pulled his hands away.

 

“This is messy, and awful and complicated and you didn’t sign up for this. I’m a fucking nightmare and I'm going to wreck you, so I think… I think…I’m saying you should go, you should go, you _need_ to go,” Justin said, his gaze intense and meaningful. 

 

Brian couldn’t help it.

 

Justin was staring at him, all sincere, his big, blue beautiful eyes twinkling with pain and sorrow, and bastard that he was, Brian just started laughing.

 

_Hysterically._

A loud, reckless gale of laughter burst forth from his lungs.

 

Justin’s face screwed up in confusion.

 

“What?!” He demanded anxiously.

 

“It’s too late, you fucker,” Brian explained helplessly, “The only way this ends is when you put me in the ground-"

 

Brian cupped Justin’s face between his hands. 

 

“- and I’m planning on that being some time way far out in the future,” He declared savagely.

 

“Brian, I’m serious,” Justin whispered anxiously, clinging to Brian's wrists. 

 

Justin was breaking.

 

_And Brian was going to sew him back together._

 

“Me too. You can fuck off with that idea Sunshine, you can fuck _right_ off with that one,” Brian chuckled and wiped his eyes. 

 

Brian smoothed Justin's hair, and got up off the bed. He found the dial on the electric blanket, and adjusted it up. 

 

“Drink your water,” he ordered.

 

Justin stared at him.

 

Brian stared back- his gaze warm, open.

 

Justin bit his lip, then took a sip.

 

Brian then took the cup from him and placed it on the bedside table. He laughed, remembering Justin’s speech from a moment ago.

 

“ _I’m a fucking nightmare and I’m going to wreck you!_ ” Brian repeated, laughing until his side split. He leaned over Justin and rested his forehead on Justin’s.

 

“I’m putting that on a t-shirt,” Brian kissed him, softly, still chuckling, “You’re gonna have to start playing inter-mural sports, Sunshine, just so you can wear it!”

 

Brian kissed him again, and again, until Justin was laughing in his mouth. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay, hope you enjoyyyy


	7. Chapter 7

Monday

8:53 pm

Two days later, Justin came home from the hospital.

 

He curled up in the front seat of the Corvette and fell promptly asleep, exhausted from his ordeal. Brian peered at him as he drove them home, his hand resting on Justin’s lap. Justin’s eyes were a little sunken, and bruised from lack of sleep, his eyelashes fanned out across his cheek.

 

The roads were dark, and a little icy.

 

As they drove, the streetlights flashed across Justin’s pale face, intermittently illuminating him and then plunging him into darkness.

 

Brian turned back to the road, and caught sight of his own haggard reflection in the rear view mirror.

 

Christ he looked like _shit._

 

Brian gently pried his hand free from Justin’s hold and downshifted slowly to brake, trying to quell the anxiety thrumming in his throat.

 

Even though they had found Justin, even though Justin was okay and coming home and fucking drooling in his sleep right next to him, Brian couldn’t block out the outright panic he felt. It was a low, incessant buzzing, winding through his nerves like an electric wire, jolting and strangling him.

 

It hadn’t stopped, not for one minute since Saturday morning.

 

Brian took a deep breath in, and exhaled slowly.

 

At one point during their stay at the hospital, one of the nurses (not Josefina), had found Brian hyperventilating around the corner from Justin’s room, and instructed him to breathe in deep to the count of six, and then out again, also to the count of six.

 

Brian had shrugged her off– _For fuck’s sake, he had given the same advice to Justin after the bashing!-_ but after his third attempt at breathing failed, Brian found himself crouched on the linoleum floor, the nurse rubbing his back and counting it out for him.

 

One.

 

Two.

 

Three.

 

Four.

 

Five.

 

Six.

 

Brian exhaled, slowly, his breath shuddering.

 

Justin was still negative, so that was one good thing.

 

+++

 

The first night, as soon as his temperature hit 95 degrees, Josefina had given Justin his second HIV test. She drew his blood while Brian anxiously fiddled with Justin’s blankets. Josefina blathered on about her recent trip to Florida, trying to distract them as the test was processing, but Justin was squeezing Brian’s hand so tight that neither of them could breathe, let alone pay attention.

 

Justin blinked, and nodded dumbly as she read the negative result.

 

Brian had her do another one right away, just to be sure.

 

When that one was clear too, Justin started to cry.

 

“Sorry,” Justin whispered.

 

Brian wiped some snot from Justin’s nose, and kissed him gently.

 

“Idiot,” Brian replied.

 

+++

 

Ten minutes later, Michael came back from the cafeteria with sandwiches and Ben in tow. Apparently when Ben had arrived at the hospital, a receptionist sent him to the wrong wing, so Ben had been wandering around for thirty minutes before he found Michael in the canteen.

 

“Hey Justin,” he said warmly, shrugging off his ski jacket.

 

“Thanks for coming,” Justin replied, offering an awkward little wave hello.

 

Ben untangled himself from his coat, and then swooped in and hugged Justin hard. Justin drew in a surprised gasp, then clung to him like someone drowning clings to a lifeboat.

 

Eventually they pulled back, and Ben turned to Brian.

 

“Hey,” Brian murmured gratefully, his arms hanging awkwardly at his sides. 

 

Ben just smiled, and hugged him too.

 

Brian rolled his eyes, but they were red.

 

As Ben cleared his foggy glasses with his shirt and Michael doled out sandwiches, Brian filled them in on the results. Justin looked a little guilty, as Brian reported that Justin was still negative, but Ben’s first reaction was a firm and solid, “Good, that’s good,”

 

Justin nodded shyly and fretted with his blankets.

 

Ben exchanged a worried glance with Brian, then launched right into it.

 

“Listen to me, when I found out I was positive, I thought it was the end of the fucking world-“

 

Brian and Michael pretended to go to find coffee, so they could give them time alone.

 

+++

 

“Daphne wants to know if she should bring over some of Justin’s clothes,” Michael said, looking up from his phone.

 

They were sitting in the waiting room, which was painted a bizarre pastel shade of purple-beige. 

 

Brian turned away from the episode of Jerry Springer, blaring out on the overhead TV, and looked at Michael.

 

“Yeah,” he replied after a minute, “But not tonight, the roads are too bad,”

 

Michael nodded, and texted back.

 

Brian returned to the TV and tried to swallow more of the rubbery grilled-cheese sandwich Michael was making him eat.

 

Michael put his phone down, and snagged a crinkle fry.

 

A woman on the screen was sobbing, her frizzy hair bunched on top of her head in a scrunchie.

The man sitting opposite her (and grinning contemptuously) had married her, promising fidelity and family happiness, then abruptly left her when she was pregnant with his child. He had run off to Texas, opening credit cards in her name and living off her money. He wanted nothing to do with her, or their child, who had Down Syndrome. 

 

Her face was red and puffy, a perfect picture of Byzantian anguish. 

 

"I don't care about me," she wailed, "I want you to know your daughter!"

 

The more she cried, the more she begged, the more he laughed– the audience was _eating_  it up.

 

 

Jerry was trying to say something to her, but the woman couldn’t stop sobbing.

 

Brian closed his eyes.

 

Michael’s phone pinged with a new text. He wiped his greasy hands on his jeans, and opened his phone.

 

He stared at the screen for a minute.

 

“Ethan came back to the Diner,”

 

Brian’s face drained of color.

 

“Mom made him leave. She told him Justin was fine, but left it at that,”

 

Brian threw the greasy sandwich down, his stomach roiling.

 

“Does he knew Justin’s here? In the hospital?” he asked anxiously.

 

“No, she just said Justin had been found and then made him leave,”

 

Brian nodded.

 

They hadn't told anyone else yet, what Michael suspected, but Brian made it clear to Debbie, to everyone, Ethan needed to stay the fuck away. 

 

The woman on the TV was throwing things now, a chair clipped her ex in the ankle and he fell.

 

 _Good woman_ , Brian thought.

 

+++

 

When they came back to the room thirty minutes later, Justin was splotchy cheeked from crying, and Ben was pacing nervously.

 

“What’s up?” Brian asked, stepping into the room.

 

Justin looked up from his lap, and seemed startled to find Brian there. Ben looked cautiously at Brian and cleared his throat.

 

“The doctor finally came,” he said.

 

“And?” Brian asked.

 

Justin was looking away from Brian, his face crumpled in pain, so Brian walked over and wiggled Justin’s sock-covered toes until Justin turned to him.

 

“He’s sending in a psychiatrist. They want to evaluate Justin, see if he needs to be put under mental observation,” Ben reported.

 

Brian’s face went white.

 

“Suicide watch,” Ben quickly clarified.

 

Justin looked up at Brian.

 

“I’m not, I promise I’m not,” Justin whispered.

 

Brian swallowed hard. Justin continued-

 

“I don’t know what happened, but I wasn’t… I didn’t have a plan, or anything, I just… I don’t know,”

 

Brian stared at Justin warily, chewing on his lip.

 

“Brian?”

 

Brian felt his anxiety gurgling up, so he shoved it down, and stepped closer, until he was hovering over Justin.

 

“You need to talk to them,” he said quietly. 

 

“Brian, I’m telling you-“

 

Brian interrupted sharply.

 

“Listen to me,”

 

He cupped Justin’s face roughly.

 

“Are you listening to me?” he asked.

 

Justin nodded anxiously, Brian’s eyes boring into his.

 

“I need you safe,” Brian murmured.

 

Justin chewed his lip, desperate to look away. Brian continued-

 

“I need you alive. We can’t do that if you don’t tell them everything,” Brian whispered, trying to forget that Ben and Michael were still there.

 

Justin shook his head.

 

“I’m fine, Brian-”

 

“No you’re not _fine,_ you’re not fucking _fine_!” Brian replied fiercely, his voice rising, “You are _not- fucking_ \- _fine_!!”

 

Brian spat the word.

 

“Justin, your life has fucking imploded in the last two months, and I know you aren’t telling us everything!” he whispered savagely. 

 

Justin closed his eyes.

 

“Please,” Brian whispered, “Talk to them,”

 

Justin flashed his watery blue eyes, his face scrunched up in terror.

 

“What if they keep me here? What if they make me stay here, alone?” he whimpered.

 

“We’ll figure it out,” Brian shrugged, aiming for nonchalance. 

 

“I’ll slit my wrists so I can stay with you,” he joked darkly.

 

Justin shook his head violently. 

 

“Don’t say that,” he begged.

 

Justin tried to wiggle free, but Brian hovered over him, insistent.

 

Ben and Michael waited quietly by the door, pretending to be invisible.

 

_Fuck it-_

 

“I mean it,” Brian whispered, “I need you safe, I need you alive,”

 

Justin looked up at him, his eyes wet.

 

Brian held his gaze.

 

Justin looked away, then blew out a shaky breath.

 

“I will, I’ll tell them everything,”

 

+++

 

They sat back in the waiting room while the psychiatrist interviewed Justin.

 

No more Jerry Springer, Animal Planet was playing. A polar bear was chasing after it’s cub, the sun setting behind them in vivid pink and orange.

 

Michael insisted on force-feeding Brian more food (pretzels and a Coke, sourced from a vending machine) and Ben quietly droned on about the goings on at the Gay & Lesbian Center. Ben knew Brian had absolutely no interest in hearing about the January GLC meeting, he was just hoping to distract him.

 

Between that and the polar bears, it worked okay.

 

Finally, an hour later, the psychiatrist emerged.

 

Brian met her outside Justin’s door, and listened to her quietly, his arms folded across his chest.

 

Justin wasn’t suicidal, they weren’t going to keep him on watch, she said, but he did need to get an MRI straight away.

 

Brian couldn’t decide if he should be grateful, or start _screaming_ and throwing chairs.

 

On Friday night, Justin had had a panic attack, she explained, which had lead to a massive seizure. The seizure fucked up his brain functions, which then explained why Justin had been playing the Oregon _fucking_ Trail in real life for two days.

 

The worst case scenario, the psychiatrist said, was that the seizure had caused permanent damage- probably to his memory, maybe to his left-brain function, but she didn’t want to speculate until they saw the MRI.

 

The best case scenario, she said, was that as soon as Justin’s body started to heal from the hypothermia, his brain would mend itself and go back to normal.

 

There was no need to worry yet, she said.

 

She was optimistic, she said.

 

Brian wasn’t.

 

He chewed on his lip, and looked in through the door. Justin was staring at the floor.

 

“I’m going to put in the order for the MRI, wait here a second,” the psychiatrist said. She crossed over to the nurse’s station and spoke briefly with Josefina. They passed paperwork back and forth for a minute, talking in low tones.

 

Brian looked at his hands.

 

They were shaking. Brian blew out a breath and laughed.

 

_P-a-t-h-e-t-i-c_

His mother used to make him spell out, whenever he came crying to her.

 

 _You’re being p-a-t-h-e-t-i-c_ , Joan would say, _nobody likes a sissy boy who cries._

 

He learned other words at age five, like _w-a-s-t-e-o-f-s-p-a-c-e_ and _s-t-u-p-i-d_ and _f-a-g-g-o-t_.

 

Joan laughed in his face until he learned better, and stopped crying altogether.

 

Brian shoved his hands in his pockets.

 

The psychiatrist came back.

 

“Come in, we need to talk about something,” she said, ushering him into Justin’s room.

 

+++

 

“You ready?” the psychiatrist asked gently.

 

Justin folded his lips into his mouth, nervous. He nodded and sat up straight, peering at Brian anxiously.

 

“What’s up, Sunshine?” Brian asked, going for normal. He sat on the opposite bed, which brought him to an equal eye line with Justin. The psychiatrist posted up at the end of Justin’s bed, her clipboard pressed against her chest.

 

Justin looked shyly at his lap.

 

“Lemme guess…. you’ve got polio?” Brian asked, dead serious.

 

Justin looked up sharply, and barked out a laugh.

 

“What?!”

 

“Typhoid? Rickets?” Brian gasped in mock horror, “ _Cholera!??”_

 

Justin laughed, a deep belly laugh, his cheeks flushed with warmth.

 

Brian flashed a coy smile.

 

It was dumb, but it worked.

 

“No,” Justin laughed.

 

“What then?” Brian asked, gentle and easy, like asking about the weather.

 

“It’s…” he sighed, “It’s stupid really,” Justin said.

 

Justin took a deep breath, and explained.

 

Apparently, almost a year ago, Gary Sapperstein had drugged and nearly raped Justin at a party. Brian listened in mute horror as Justin described the night, his disorientation and the men around him, groping him, circling him like fucking wolves, waiting for the right moment to attack.

 

Brian wanted to scream, but Justin talked in a dispassionate tone, shrugging off the experience as if he were talking about a movie he didn’t particularly like.

 

Justin got to the part about the sling, and stopped, his throat choked.

 

Brian reached for him then.

 

“In the end, nothing happened, I kicked him in the face and got away,”

 

Justin made a weird, embarrassed face.

 

Brian held Justin’s hand loosely between his palms.

 

“I just… decided to forget about it,” Justin shrugged.

 

Brian remembered the morning after, when he stumbled home after spending the night in jail with Michael and Ted, and suddenly everything slotted into place –

 

Justin’s surprise acceptance of financial help, Justin’s total lack of emotion discussing the night before- Justin topping him (which was fucking hot, and not as rare as everyone probably thought, but it did come out of left field considering Brian hadn’t showered or prepped).

 

Brian swallowed past the rocks in his throat.

 

“That’s fucked up,” he said, feeling immediately stupid.

 

The words weren’t enough.

 

Justin nodded.

 

The psychiatrist cleared her throat.

 

“So the reason this is important, particularly now-“ She started.

 

Justin took the cue.

 

“I saw him, on Friday night, he came into the restaurant,” Justin explained.

 

The rocks in Brian’s throat plummeted. 

 

“Did he do anything?” He asked immediately.

 

Justin shook his head.

 

“No! He just- I had to serve him, no one was able to switch tables so….”

 

Justin took another deep breath, and explained.

 

The fuckface had made Justin wait on him, for three and a half hours. He sent plates back, asked detailed and patronizing questions about the wine and insisted on _chatting_ with Justin, asking about his day and his _fucking_ art, playing nice and friendly, but really, he was _torturing_ Justin.

 

The fuckface enjoyed it, got off on it, watching Justin become more and more helpless, grow more and more anxious.

 

When he finally left, the Sap had stopped Justin in the middle of the dining room, in full view of Justin’s overbearing manager and all the other guests, and stuck out his hand for a handshake.

 

“I couldn’t say no,” Justin admitted, humiliated.

 

Justin was forced to shake his would-be rapist’s hand.

 

“See ya round, party boy,” the Sap had whispered in his ear.

 

He left, and Justin went straight into the bathroom and crumbled.

 

That’s what caused the panic attack, which then caused the seizure- one so big it had caused Justin to crumple beside a toilet and writhe on the floor like a fucking fish on dry land.

 

And after THAT, Justin composed himself and walked back out into the dining room, acting like everything was fine and dandy. Disoriented, Justin helped to clean up, and after he discovered the Sap had left him a $500 tip, no doubt to humiliate him further, Justin doled out the cash to Eduardo and Lucas and all the other busboys. Eventually his right hand totally crapped out and the manager told him to go home early.

 

Martin, the Maître’d had rolled his eyes as Justin left- in his opinion, Justin was always playing sick and getting cut early.

 

Then Justin walked himself out into the freezing cold, _without his hat_ , still shaking and postictal, and caught the completely _wrong_ bus in the completely _wrong_ direction to the completely _wrong_ home.

 

Kid didn’t even realize he’d gone to his Dad’s house until he was walking up the driveway.

 

And because his brain was still fucked up, Justin did the only logical thing he could think of, and had crawled into Molly’s old playhouse for shelter.

 

“Most people would go to a neighbor’s house, right? They’d find a phone and call a cab, or a friend,” The psychiatrist jumped in, explaining patiently.

 

“But the seizure scrambled Justin’s brain so much, he was acting instinctually, not logically. He knew it wasn’t safe in his childhood home because his Dad had taken it over, he knew the bus had ended for the night, he didn’t trust the neighbors- so he made the best move he could, and sought out the closest, safest place,”

 

_Which was Molly’s fucking pink and yellow Victorian-style playhouse._

 

When Brian thought about how close Justin came to dying in his own backyard, Brian wanted to rip his skin off and vomit up whatever else was left of him.

 

Brian stood up, and moved closer, his hands still cradling Justin’s in a loose hold.

 

Justin laughed awkwardly.

 

“So…. I guess that’s how it happened,” he said simply.

 

“I’m still bad as new,” he joked.

 

Brian hesitated, the words stuck in his chest.

 

Justin looked at him curiously.

 

“Brian?”

 

Brian swallowed hard.

 

“Can I…”

 

Justin blinked, then nodded.

 

Brian threw his arms around Justin, and welded him to his chest.

 

+++

 

The MRI came back fine, but they decided to keep Justin for two days, to monitor his brain function, and to make sure he was recuperating properly from hypothermia.

 

Justin was moved to a private room, and he slept fitfully while Brian curled around him from behind, watching the 10 o’clock news.

 

 _It was weird, sleeping together after being so long apart_ , Brian mused.

 

It felt good though.

 

Good weird.

 

On Sunday morning, Daphne and Debbie and Emmett stopped by and spent the entire day making Justin feel normal, and loved, throwing popcorn at him and fussing over him.

 

Ben took Brian for a coffee on Sunday afternoon, and plainly laid out what they should expect if Justin turned out to be HIV positive. He talked through basics, viral loads and medicine and insurance companies- things Brian had only known the gist of but was now taking a PhD crash course in.

 

Ben was direct, and to the point, which somehow made it easier.

 

They didn't talk about Ethan, they avoided the subject scrupulously. The psychiatrist (a different one, sourced by Ben from the Gay and Lesbian Center) recommended Brian should wait. If Justin wasn't in immediate danger (and he didn't seem to be, Ethan was keeping his distance), Brian should wait until Justin was home and settled, feeling safe and healthy again, before gently broaching the topic. 

 

Brian had no  _fucking clue_ how to go about that. 

 

Sunday night, Debbie made Brian go home to shower and sleep properly, she drove him home herself, but he snuck back at 2 am.

 

Justin was wide awake, watching an infomercial about building a home gym, flipping through a copy of Good Housekeeping. He raised an eyebrow when Brian sauntered in.

 

“You’re supposed to be home,” Justin said quietly.

 

“You’re supposed to be asleep,” Brian replied brattily, and dumped a grocery bag full of coloring books and crossword puzzles on the bed.

 

They stayed up all night, coloring and chatting.

 

Brian forgot to act aloof, and Justin forgot to be timid.

 

Somehow, they muscled through. 

 

+++

Monday 

9:23 pm

 

The red light turned green, and Brian steered the Corvette onto Liberty Avenue. Brian inhaled again, his fingers curled tight around the steering wheel.

 

One.

 

Two.

 

Three.

 

Four.

 

Five.

 

Six.

 

He peered back at Justin, who shuffled in his sleep and curled closer to the door.

 

 _Justin was still negative, the MRI was good, Justin was coming home_ , Brian reminded himself.

 

So why couldn’t Brian pull it together?

 

+++

 

Brian helped Justin out of the car, and kept his arm around him as Justin wobbled up the steps into the building.

 

“Thanks,” he murmured, leaning into Brian as they rode the elevator up. Brian nodded and buried his nose in Justin’s hair.

He smelled like antiseptic.

 

Brian led Justin into the loft and deposited him on the sofa. Daphne had brought over some of Justin’s clothes and supplies, they were scattered on the coffee table.

 

Justin blinked slowly, sleepily, taking in the loft.

 

He smiled.

 

“What?” Brian asked.

 

Justin shrugged.

 

“It’s good to be home,”

 

Brian bit back a smile and shook his head.

 

“I think Debbie left us enough food for a year,” he replied, gesturing to the overstuffed kitchen counter top, burdened with bread and bananas and pasta and Ginger Ale.

 

Brian opened the fridge, which was filled to the brim with casserole dishes.

 

“What’re you hungry for?” He asked.

 

Justin shrugged.

 

“Whatever you want,” he said.

 

“Pasta? Debbie made ziti,” Brian coaxed.

 

“Okay,”

 

Brian looked at him.

 

The kid was swaying where he sat. Brian swallowed down his anxiety, and peered indifferently into the fridge.

 

“Why don’t you take a shower?” he suggested.

 

Justin blinked sleepily, then nodded.

 

He stood slowly and paused.

 

“You alright?” Brian asked, still looking in the fridge.

 

Justin looked bashfully at the floor.

 

“Will you come with me?” he asked nervously.

 

Brian turned to him.

 

The kid was studying the floor, too scared to look up.

 

Brian sighed dramatically.

 

“If I _must,_ ” he drawled theatrically, putting on a southern accent.

 

Justin looked at him and snorted out a laugh.

 

_Christ what a beautiful sound._

Justin made his way to the shower, and Brian trailed after.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: this one was tough, sorry it took so long. it's also a little too fucking real (esp given what's going on in america this week), so sorry if it's a tough read


	8. Chapter 8

April

 

The first night home, Justin woke up at 2, his heart pounding from a nightmare he couldn’t remember. He stumbled blindly to the bathroom and threw water on his face, trying to calm down.

 

It felt like someone was squeezing his heart.

 

_What was it?_  He thought,  _What the fuck had he been dreaming about?_

 

Justin scoured his mind, looking for the image or idea that had left him shaking – but it was already gone.

 

Justin shook his head. The meds he’d been put on were strong – maybe they were fucking with him? His body wasn’t right, he felt like the world was tilted, even if his vision wasn’t.

 

He took a breath, and peered through the doorway back into the darkened bedroom.

 

Brian was curled towards him, snoring softly, his mouth parted just a little. The pillow was wet with a dab of drool.

 

Gratitude swiftly flooded Justin’s belly, and then all at once it was too too much. Something about the way the pale light was filtering over Brian’s angular face, or the deep blue shadows contouring his face- but Justin suddenly felt he was  _looking back on his life_. As if he were a ghost, as if Brian were now out of reach, as if the whole world beyond the bathroom was now out of reach.

 

What would become of Brian, if he went?

 

Would Brian still be here, would he still be alone?

 

Justin swallowed hard.

 

He didn’t want to think about it, it made him want to vomit.

 

He turned the taps back on, and let his hands sit under the running water. The sensation slowly drew him back to his feet, grounding him. He cupped his hands, then took a few mouthfuls of water

 

_Three more months_

_Fuck_

 

+++

 

The rest of the first week was filled with minutia. Filling prescriptions, trying to regain the function in his fried brain. Eating, trying to regain the 15 pounds he’d lost. Sleeping, trying to regain the rest he’d not had for months.

 

Brian stayed and worked from home, so Justin found himself shuffling between the bathroom and the living room, where he curled up in a nest on the sofa next to Brian.

 

Mostly Justin slept.

 

Brian for his part, was still on edge. He was unbelievably tender with Justin, but the rest of the time, with almost anyone else, Brian was slamming doors and screaming to people on the phone. He was so angry, his neck seemed permanently tense, knotted with rage- and his eyes were so furious they were almost perpetually black. Justin found himself both surprisingly turned on by this enraged Brian, but also unreasonably worried that Brian would keel over from a heart attack.

 

Justin couldn’t figure out what exactly was causing Brian’s anxiety – he figured it was probably a hangover from having your….  _whatever they were_ …. disappear and go crazy for a few days. That, and also the fact that Justin was still probably positive.

 

That they had to get used to. 

 

The 2nd negative HIV test result, which at first felt like a miracle, now felt like a cruel joke. Justin knew in his gut, there was no possible way he could be negative if Ethan was positive, and to have the awful news delayed felt unbelievably mean.

 

So truthfully, Brian had every right to break and shatter things, to howl and curse 'til he was blue in the face. Justin would too, if he weren’t completely drained by the meds. Instead, Justin tried to stay in Brian’s sight at all times, to eat and do anything Brian wanted, anything he needed. It was the very least Justin could do.

 

+++

 

Jennifer came back to town on Saturday, which immediately presented problems. Justin adamantly didn’t want to tell her.

 

“I just don’t see how you can keep it from her,” Brian replied. He was staying remarkably calm on this topic.

 

“She’ll worry,” Justin threw back over his shoulder as he tidied up the kitchen.

 

“Yeah, no shit. She’s your mother, it’s what she does,” Brian offered, shrugging his shoulders a little. Justin bit back a retort about Joan, and tried to focus on the dishes. Brian crossed around the island and leaned on the fridge.

 

“We need to talk about your finances, your insurance,” Brian said nonchalantly, pretending to play with the fridge magnets.

 

“I know,” Justin sighed back petulantly.

 

Brian fingered a garish red magnet of a train that Debbie had probably given him years ago as a joke. 

 

“She should be a part of that conversation,” Brian finished quietly.

 

Justin rinsed the last bowl.

 

“If I tell her…. it’ll be real,” Justin whispered.

 

Brian hesitated, then reached out and ran his hand down Justin’s back.

 

“It already is,”

 

+++

 

Jennifer didn’t take the news well, at all. Her voice crescendoed in pitch as Justin slowly told her everything, his gaze fixated on Debbie’s coffee table.

 

Somehow Justin felt safer, talking to his mother in Debbie’s house. In the week and half that he’d been back, the loft had become a kind of sanctuary to Justin – something Brian instinctively felt as well. So far they’d had no one inside, not even a delivery guy.

 

Justin was curled up in an armchair, and Brian sat opposite him in the matching chair, his long legs elegantly crossed. Jennifer and Debbie sat side by side on the lumpy couch.

 

“Justin I don’t understand, how did this all happen!? Why didn’t you tell me Dad had taken you off his insurance?!” Jennifer cried.

 

“I didn’t want to worry you, you have yourself to worry about,” He answered quietly.

 

Jennifer sighed, a long, agonized sigh. She chewed on her lip angrily, then peered at Brian. Brian smiled back, trying to help her calm a little. Her gaze snapped back to Justin. 

 

"What about Ethan, when did you guys break up? Last I knew, you two were happy, why don’t you tell me anything anymore?” she demanded.

 

Debbie shifted uncomfortably on the couch.

 

“You know children, Jen, they can’t share everything with their mothers,” Debbie offered blandly, hoping to assuage her hurt.

 

Jennifer shook her head viciously.

 

“Justin?!! Talk to me!”

 

Justin was staring uncomfortably at his lap.

 

“Justin?” Brian prompted gently.

 

Justin looked at him, and after a moment, he shook his head.

 

Brian nodded back.

 

“We just broke up Mom, can you leave it at that?” Justin begged.

 

“No I cannot leave it at that!! Justin, you’ve been basically homeless for months, barely scraping by, working yourself to death- you lost your insurance, you’ve not been taking care of yourself, you had a SEIZURE that made you so disoriented you went MISSING and got HYPOTHERMIA- is there ANYTHING ELSE I’M LEAVING OUT?” She yelled, her voice agonizingly shrill.

 

Brian and Debbie flinched, but kept their poker faces.

 

This was Justin’s news, not theirs.

 

Jennifer stood up, and reached for her purse.

 

“Right then, let’s go!” She said briskly.

 

Justin felt his heart begin to hammer, “Go where?”

 

“Home! You can’t sleep on Daphne’s couch anymore, you’re coming home with me,” She ordered.

 

She gestured for him to stand, but Justin just curled in tighter to the chair. 

 

“I’m staying with Brian,”

 

Jennifer’s face exploded in confusion. She stood there silently, gawking at them both. 

 

“You’re staying with Brian?” she finally stuttered.

 

Brian offered her a smile and nodded.

 

"Brian, you know you're not obligated to take care of him- " She started.

 

Brian's jaw clenched in anger. 

 

"Yes,  _thank you_ , I know I'm not," he bit back. 

 

Jennifer stared at him. Brian stared right back. 

 

“Are you two… back together?” She asked hesitantly.

 

Justin’s heart  _hammered_.

 

Brian didn’t bat an eye.

 

“We are,” he said simply.

 

Jennifer floundered. She swayed a little, and looked about the room as if they were suddenly on a boat at sea.

 

“I… I need a minute, I’m sorry,” she said quietly before fleeing for the upstairs bathroom.

 

Debbie moved over on the couch, then reached out and lay her hand on Justin’s knee.

 

“Doing good kiddo?” She asked. Justin nodded, and Brian was suddenly struck with an awful sense of déjà vu – of having been sat in that exact chair, bleeding or hurting or crying, and Debbie saying the exact same thing in the exact same tone of voice.

 

“You gonna tell her sweetie?” Debbie asked Justin quietly.

 

Justin shook his head.

 

“I’d have to tell her how it happened and…she’ll think I’m stupid…” he trailed off awkwardly.

 

Brian’s stomach knotted in agonizing clumps.

 

Debbie gently stroked Justin’s knee.

 

“Everyone makes mistakes, sweetie, you need to forgive yourself, mistakes happen,” she murmured soothingly. 

 

Justin shook his head, his eyes wet. He was trembling. 

 

“It’s not your fault,” Brian said. 

 

Justin lifted his gaze and met Brian’s.

 

Brian was staring at him, his gaze forceful, but warm.

 

It was too much.

 

Justin looked away.

 

+++

 

Later that night, back safely in the loft, Brian tried to soothe away the day by keeping Justin in the shower and making out with him for as long as the hot water would last. Since Justin had been home, they’d found it almost impossible to not somehow always be touching.

 

At first, Justin was tentative –

 

“I don’t want to bother you, or… be too clingy,” Justin had admitted. Brian just shrugged and twined his fingers in Justin’s armpit hair. “How ‘bout I cling to you, Sunshine?” he had replied.

 

– But now, Justin was just as much of an octopus as Brian was.

 

After their shower, Justin set about making them sandwiches, but Brian couldn’t keep his hands away, so eventually Justin gave up on the sandwiches and they just made out and pawed at each other like desperate, horny teenagers.

 

They still hadn’t talked about sex, much less done anything.

 

Brian felt Justin’s dick swell through his jeans.

 

_Maybe tonight_

 

Brian pulled his lips away from Justin’s- Christ the kid looked beautifully dopey, his eyes closed in bliss.

 

_Yes, yes, yes_ Brian thought,  _Yes_ to everything about this boy and this moment.

 

_Take care of him_ he thought. 

 

Brian trailed a finger along Justin’s cheek.

 

“Can I touch you?” Brian asked. His voice was quiet, and rough.

 

Justin’s eyes fluttered open, a gorgeous pink spread across his cheeks and down along his neck.

 

Justin bit his lip.

 

“I don’t know if it’s safe,” he murmured back, “I’ll never forgive myself if- we… we need to be safe,” Justin admitted quietly.

 

Brian smiled.

 

“What if I keep my dick in my pants, and my mouth and any open wounds I have, far, far, away from your sperm?” Brian promised.

 

Justin giggled, then winced.

 

“But what do you get out of it?” he asked.

 

The question made Brian’s brain stutter in a horrible way that he couldn’t quite explain.

 

“I get to make you cum,” he replied simply.

 

A slow smile spread across Justin’s lips until he was practically  _beaming_.

 

“Okay then, make me cum,”

 

Brian growled and kissed him roughly, then pulled away and walked to his coat, which was hanging by the front door.

 

“Brian?” Justin called after him, confused.

 

Brian fished in his coat pocket and drew out a pair of sleek, black leather gloves.

 

He sauntered back to Justin, pulling the gloves on.

 

Justin raised an eyebrow, arousal and curiosity spread across his face.

 

“We’re gonna be safe, Sunshine, but we’re not gonna be boring,” Brian smirked. 

 

+++

 

So hand jobs came back, as did blowjobs (with condoms).

 

That night Brian wrung out three  _gorgeous_ orgasms from Justin – it was as if the kid hadn’t been touched in years.

 

Brian was scrupulous, checking on Justin and making sure that Justin was enthusiastic, and  _consenting._

 

And That.

 

That was the monster they were both still avoiding. It loomed large and hulking in the corner. They never talked about Ethan, or what happened between Ethan & Justin, they both avoided it scrupulously.

 

“He laughed it off, said Michael was reading too much into stuff,” Ben reported quietly on night, after he had spent the afternoon taking Justin to meet Portia, a therapist at the Gay & Lesbian Center.

 

Brian listened, then swigged his beer.

 

Michael wasn’t reading too much into stuff.

 

Brian knew this because he knew Justin like he knew his catechism.

 

The kid was covering, or in denial, Brian just couldn’t decide which.

 

But every time Brian felt brave enough to bring it up, Justin would look so happy and safe that Brian would rather gouge his own eyes out than cause Justin any kind of harm.

 

So he side-stepped around it, and focused on helping Justin regain his normal life.

 

Justin had taken the weeks off school and work, he’d quit the shitty job at  _Les Grand Plaisir_ , Jennifer was going to see about some options for insurance, and in the meantime Brian made sure Justin was well-fed, not bored, supported, loved and pleasured.

 

They played board games, got into epic debates about Palahniuk novels and discovered all manner of good toys and positions to play with.

 

It all went smoothly until mid- April.

+++

 

Brian pulled the loft door open and trudged wearily inside. He was exhausted, completely spent from a shitty day of having Vanguard micromanage all the wrong things about their latest campaign for Brown Athletics.

 

“All I’m saying is, maybe you should hear him out – not for him, but for  _you_!” Daphne exclaimed.

 

She and Justin were sitting on the floor in front of the sofa, MTV on mute in the background.

 

Brian paused, then shut the door behind him. Daphne and Justin both jumped.

 

“Hi honey, I’m home!” Brian offered ironically, then felt immediately pathetic.

He dumped his briefcase on the desk, pecked Justin on the lips then made a beeline for the fridge. He pulled out a beer and unwound his tie from where it felt like it was strangling him around his neck.

 

Daphne and Justin watched him silently.

 

“What’s up?” He asked, eyebrow raised.

 

Justin looked at the floor.

 

“Ethan called me, he’s planning to move home to Boston,” Daphne explained.

 

Brian nodded slowly, absorbing the information, feeling the bile in his stomach swill. 

 

After a tick, Brian shrugged. 

 

“Good,” He crossed to the sofa and ran his hands through Justin’s hair, “Did you eat dinner yet?”

 

Justin shook his head.

 

“He wants to see me before he goes,” Justin said quietly.

 

Brian felt his heart stop.

 

“Do you want to see him?” Brian asked.

 

Justin shrugged.

 

“Daphne thinks I should,” he replied.

 

“I think it could be healthy,” She chimed in, “It could offer like, closure,”

 

Brian zeroed in on Justin.

 

He was breathing quickly, fiddling anxiously with his sleeve. He reached his hand out and pressed it over Justin’s.

 

“What do you want? Do you want to see him?” Brian asked gently.

 

Justin closed his eyes, and his face slowly scrunched up in pain.

 

“I don’t want to be a coward,” he whimpered.

 

Brian squeezed Justin’s hand.

 

“What do you want?”

 

Justin exhaled a shaky breath, then opened his eyes.

 

He looked bashfully at Brian.

 

“I don’t want to see him,” he admitted, looking at Brian as if he was checking to see if he got the right answer. 

 

Brian nodded slowly, and wiped away a stray tear making its way down Justin’s cheek.

 

“Then don’t,” he replied easily.

 

Brian handed Justin his beer, and got up again to fetch some water.

 

Daphne trailed after him.

 

“But- don’t you think it’s important for them to have some kind of closure?!” She demanded anxiously.

 

“Nope! It’s important what Justin wants,” He replied.

 

He pulled open the fridge.

 

“You want a beer?” Brian offered to her.

 

Daphne shook her head.

 

“I just feel that Justin has an obligation to Ethan, to himself to-“

 

Brian saw  _Pamplona mother-fucking_ ** _red._**

 

“Justin is obliged to  _ **nothing**_  and ** _no one_** _,”_  He snapped back savagely- Daphne jumped back from the ferocity of it.

 

Daphne was immediately mortified.

 

“Of course not,” she replied timidly.

 

Brian rubbed his forehead, “Daphne – I’m not… Just, just let it go, okay? Let him do want he wants,” He pleaded. 

 

Daphne peered back at Justin, who was still huddled silently on the couch.

 

“Please Daph?” Brian whispered.

 

Daphne sighed, and nodded. She crossed back to the sofa to collect her purse and car keys.

 

She paused, hovering over Justin.

 

“I love you,” she told him, so fucking soft it pierced deep.

 

Justin offered her a watery smile, but his throat was clogged, he couldn’t speak.

 

Daphne smiled back. Brian walked her to the door, and waited with her while the elevator came.

 

As soon as she descended from sight, Brian came back in and locked the door. 

 

He turned back to the living room, and Justin finally fell apart.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As ever, sorry for the delayyyyy. writer's block & insecurity combined with RL deadlines made this one esp tough... good news is the next one's almost already done, so...yeah. thnx for reading!


	9. Chapter 9

_Justin shook his head, scrubbing out his eye sockets._

_“What if you never see him again? What if Ethan goes back to Boston and you never… confront him? Get closure?” Daphne whispered._

_Justin sniffed and pulled awkwardly at his sweatpants. He’d been crying slowly for the last half hour, and now the only thing still coming out was snot._

_“He’ll leave thinking he’s a nice guy,” she continued._

_“He is,” Justin batted back helplessly._

_Daphne’s forehead wrinkled in pain._

_She licked her lips, then gently rested her palm on top of Justin’s._

_“Nice guys don’t do what he did,” she said softly, “Justin, he cheated on you. He… he may have given you HIV…”_

_Justin let out a high-pitched whine._

_His hands were shaking, the right one clamped up horribly._

_“I’ll go with you,” she promised, “Or Brian, Brian will go with you,”_

_Justin shuddered out a painful laugh, shaking his head._

_“Okay, we can go then, you and me,” she offered._

_Justin shook his head, his jaw clenched tight._

_Daphne paused._

_“I want you to get to say what you want to say,”_

_Justin let out a wet laugh – she had no idea, how it happened, yet Daphne’s advice was almost exact._

_“And I want him to have to hear it,” she said._

_Justin choked._

_What if he froze, what if the words didn’t come?_

_“I think you’ll die if you don’t get heard,” she whispered._

 

Brian locked the door, and stepped back into the loft.

 

The sound shook Justin from his musings.

 

He blew out a shaky breath, trying to clear his lungs, but it still felt like he was drowning.

 

_Drowning_

_Dying_

_Daphne was right, he was dying_

 

Brian lingered by the door, watching him carefully.

 

Heavy silence lay between them.

 

Justin gulped in a huge lungful of air, trying to stop the sobs that were choking up.

 

Justin’s head starting shaking back and forth – Images, thousands of them – flashed in his mind.

 

Of Ethan’s eyes, _deep brown with yellow freckles_ ,

 

his hair, _romantic and curly after a shower_ ,

 

his smile, _his fucking crooked little fang_ ,

 

his face, stretched with laugher _, I love you!_

his face, wet with tears, _But, I love you!_

his face, in shadow –

 

_I love you_

 

The words rang in his head.

 

That moment, from months ago, stretched before him- how the shadow fell across Ethan’s face-

 

_I love you_

The words roiled Justin’s stomach.

 

Brian swallowed.

 

“Justin?”

 

Justin let out a long half-whine, half-growl, the sound strangled by his clenched teeth.

 

_I love you_

 

Carson Daley and TRL danced behind Justin on the TV. The thing was on mute, but it felt grotesque, the happy faces of Spring Break bouncing behind Justin’s hunched and angry shadow.

 

Brian found the remote on the kitchen island and turned it off.

 

_I love you_

 

“Justin?” Brian murmured.

 

Justin _sprang_ into action.

 

“Fuck fuck FUCK FUCK FUCK!” Justin cried out, leaping up.

 

He took a few angry, confused paces around the coffee table, then made a quick bee-line for the bedroom.

 

“She’s right, Daphne’s right, I’m a fucking coward, ” Justin muttered viciously to himself, slamming a dresser drawer.

 

Brian anxiously moved to the bedroom, but Justin soon reemerged, pulling a sweater over his head.

 

“What are you doing?” Brian asked anxiously.

 

Justin grabbed his boots and tried jamming them on his feet. His hands were shaking so bad he couldn’t get the laces undone. He tore at them with his clawed hand until he could squeeze his toes in.

 

“Daphne’s right, he’s leaving tomorrow, I should, _fucking_ \- I don’t know, _fucking do something!“_ Justin yelled.

 

Justin’s shoes were approximately on, so he started to reach for his coat.

 

Something in Brian’s sternum _split._

 

“No!” Brian blurted out, his arms reaching clumsily for Justin.

 

Brian caught himself mid-way and immediately pulled back, as if he’d burnt himself.

 

Justin didn’t notice, he was struggling with his coat.

 

“ _Don’t_ ,” Brian begged loudly instead, “Please don’t!”

 

Justin jammed his arms into his puffy coat.

 

 _Fuck fuck fuck_ Brian circled him anxiously, his brain bleating terrified thoughts-

 

“If you go to him I need to go with you and if I see him I’ll kill him so just fucking, PLEASE just _fucking stay put_!!!” Brian pleaded.

 

Justin stopped, and took in Brian’s distress.

 

_“Or Brian, Brian will go with you,”_

Justin’s breath was coming quick, adrenaline and rage throbbing through his veins. He peered at Brian, who looked ready to _explode._

 

_“Or Brian, Brian will go with you,”_

 

Justin wiped his eyes.

 

“Do you trust me?” he asked.

 

“Yes I fucking trust you!” Brian snapped.

 

He took a breath.

 

“I trust you,” he repeated, his voice terse.

 

"I trust you,"

 

Justin breathed out, his nostrils flared.

 

“I need to do this,” Justin replied.

 

Brian took a deep breath and _fucking howled._ His body stretched jaggedly up, fighting the instinct to crumple in.

 

“FUCK!” He spat, slamming his hand against the counter.

 

“Justin!” He pleaded again.

 

Justin shook his head.

 

“I need you to come with me,” Justin said.

 

“Justin-“

 

Justin pinned him with his eyes.

 

They were dark blue, a midnight sky in an endlessly black ocean.

 

Brian gulped, he felt like throwing up.

 

“ I need you,” Justin said.

 

+++

 

They took a cab.

 

 _“No fucking way either of us is driving, not like this!”_ Brian had snarled, forcing a hat and mittens on Justin at the last minute.

 

Liberty Avenue was, for once, flush with taxis.

 

Brian opened the door and Justin bundled in.

 

“7289 Idlewild Terrace!” Brian barked at the cabbie, sliding in after.

 

The taxi pulled away from the curb and Justin stared at Brian in wonder.

 

Brian shrugged.

 

“Don’t,” he muttered.

 

Justin nodded, his eyes wet again.

 

The Pittsburgh skyline flew by in a wet, messy blur.

 

+++

 

Twenty minutes later, and they were there.

 

Justin gazed out the window at Ethan’s building. A smattering of orange lights were on.

 

It felt like _years_ since he had lived here.

 

The neighborhood was quiet, everyone already turned in on a Tuesday night.

 

“We can still go back,” Brian murmured quietly.

 

Justin shook his head anxiously.

 

_I love you_

 

_His face, in shadow._

 

Justin breathed, but his lungs were still full, still clogged and wet.

 

Justin opened the door.

 

The passenger door alarm dinged.

 

He slid out, his boots landing on the slick pavement.

 

Brian followed after.

 

+++

 

Brian rang the buzzer, 5A, but Justin shook his head.

 

“It doesn’t work,” Justin explained, then pushed the front door.

 

It was taped open.

 

Brian growled.

 

“How long has it been like that?” he asked.

 

Justin shrugged, “November?”

 

+++

 

5A.

 

The Five was tilted, and the A written with electrical tape.

 

Brian swallowed down the rising bile in his windpipe, and Justin drew in a long, wheezing breath.

 

Brian raised an eyebrow.

 

“You ready?”

 

Justin nodded.

 

Brian knocked.

 

The sound echoed loudly in the hallway.

 

They waited.

 

Brian knocked again.

 

Nothing.

 

Brian let out a deep, relieved breath.

 

He turned to Justin.

 

Justin just glared at the door, then turned and walked down the hall.

 

“Justin?” Brian called after him.

 

Justin turned the corner.

 

“Justin!”

 

Justin reappeared, a door key dangling by some string in his hand.

 

“Justin, I don’t think he’s here,” Brian cajoled, his bile rising again.

 

Justin ignored him and jammed the key in the lock.

 

A few wiggles, and the door gave way.

 

+++

 

Empty.

 

The apartment was empty, save for one or two half-torn moving boxes.

 

A discarded mop lay toppled over in the corner where the bed used to be.

 

Justin paced the room, impotent rage thrumming through him.

 

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck,” He chanted, his voice breathless with anger and tears.

 

Brian stood lock still in the center of the room, trying to be an anchor, watching Justin stride bitterly around the room.

 

Brian stood there, helpless. There was no fixing this.

 

“FUCK!” Justin lashed out at the empty wall, jabbing his fist into the dry wall.

 

Brian flinched, _terrified_ , but he stayed put.

 

“Justin,” he called.

 

“FUCK!!!” Justin screamed again, weaker this time.

 

He let out a high pitched whine and crumpled into the wall.

 

Brian bit his lip and watched, his heart swelling and ripping like a sail torn open by a hurricane wind.

 

“Justin” he whispered again.

 

Justin clamped a bloody hand around his mouth, trying to stifle his sobs.

 

“Justin talk to me,” Brian begged, “Please,”

 

Justin turned to him.

 

“I’m so fucking stupid,” Justin whispered.

 

Brian’s face crumpled in pain.

 

“No you’re not,” Brian replied fiercely, his throat clamping down viciously.

 

Justin shook his head, and slid down the wall.

 

“I’m so fucking stupid,” he repeated.

 

Justin sat below the dented drywall in a messy heap.

 

Brian didn’t move a muscle.

Justin stared at the floor.

 

“We had a fight,” Justin started, “He just got back from Boston and I didn’t want him there,”

 

The words were slobbery, rolling out of his mouth like syrupy vomit.

 

“I should have missed him, while he was away, but I didn’t. I felt… I felt free. It meant I was lying to him, right? When I told him I loved him, it became a lie. How could I love him if I didn’t want to be around him?”

 

Brian shrugged, helpless. His stomach _roiled._

 

The words poured out.

 

“He came back from Boston and he suddenly wanted us to do all this stuff together. He was needy but… he didn’t ask me- he just- he cancelled my plans, told people I wasn’t available. He got pissy when I went to work or… I started to resent him, I... I couldn’t stand him. When I was away from him this thing that was always sitting on my chest was suddenly gone,”

 

Brian clenched his jaw, trying to swallow back and shove down the fucking horror that was working its way up his neck.

 

Justin continued, “Finally he dragged me to this party, his friend’s start of the semester party. I got really drunk, I hate those parties and I didn’t like his friends, but he didn’t drink, he had to get up early and practice. We got into a fight on the way home,”

 

Justin squeezed his eyes shut.

 

“He knew. He knew I didn’t love him. He yelled at me on the bus, called me out on it, asked me if I was still in love with you, if I ever loved him, why was I such a liar,” Justin shook his head.

 

“I told him No, I did love him, I would do anything for him…” Justin let out a high-pitched keen, followed by a blubbery laugh, “I fucking lied to him. I looked him in the face and I lied,” Justin spat.

 

“We got home and we fought, for like, an hour, him crying, yelling at me, me trying to soothe him… Then he kissed me and I… I…” Justin stuttered but the words kept coming, “I told him no I just wanted to go to sleep, and he was annoyed but he said Okay. I slept on the couch,”

 

Brian’s throat clamped shut, he couldn’t breathe.

 

“I remember thinking, we were going to break up, in the morning we would talk again, and we would break up. I fell asleep and he slept in the bed,”

 

Brian’s ears were roaring.

 

Justin let out a soggy, broken laugh.

 

“I woke up, I woke up, and he was… there. He was in me,”

 

The floorboards were blurry and brown.

  

“I pushed him off but then he came, and…” Justin trailed off.

 

He couldn’t say it.

 

Brian’s insides crumpled. He reached blindly for Justin, but he was too far away.

 

“I don’t know why he didn’t wear a condom, we always had condoms,” Justin added anxiously, “I don’t know why he… “ Justin dribbled off.

 

"He said..." 

 

_I love you_

 

_His face, in shadow._

Justin pulled his knees to his chest and buried his eyes in his kneecaps, rubbing them as if he could erase everything.

 

Light-headed, Brian wobbled forward and knelt down in front of Justin.

 

His face was wet, tears streaming down his handsome face.

 

Gently, Brian reached out and trailed his fingers up Justin’s shin to his bowed, golden head.

 

He cupped Justin’s cheek and slowly, carefully, turned it up, so Justin’s own drowning blue eyes were locked with his.

 

Brian tried to smile, something comforting, but his face was a crumpled mess. 

 

Justin’s breastbone broke.

 

He folded into Brian’s lap and sobbed.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
